RECREATIONS  OF 
A  PSYCHOLOGIST 


By 
G.  STANLEY  HALL 

Recreations  of  a  Psychologist 

Morale 
Adolescence 

Youth 
Educational  Problems 

Founders  of  Modern 
Psychology 

These  Are  Apfrleton  Books 

D.  APPLETON  &  COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 


T241  A 


RECREATIONS    OF 
A    PSYCHOLOGIST 


BY 

G.  STANLEY  HALL 

AUTHOR  OP  "ADOLESCENCB,"  "EDUCATIONAL  PROBLEMS,'* 

"BOUNDEB8    OF   MODERN   PSYCHOLOGY,"    "JE8UB, 

THE  CHRIST,  IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  PSYCHOLOGY,!! 

"MORALE:  THE  SUPREME  BTANDABO 

O*  UFB  AMD  CONDUCT.'! 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 

1920 


COPYRIGHT,   1920.  BY 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


IK  THE  UVTCED  STATES  OP  AMEBICA 


PREFACE 

No  one  can  possibly  realize  better  than  the  author  of 
these  vacation  skits  how  crude  and  amateurish  they  are 
if  judged  from  the  standpoint  of  literature.  If  they  have 
any  merit,  or  their  publication  any  excuse,  it  will  be  as 
illustrations  of  psychological  principles. 

"The  Fall  of  Atlantis/'  just  written,  was  largely  sug 
gested  by  last  summer's  reading  of  stories  of  ideal  states; 
also  by  Zeller's  account  of  the  fabled  strikes  of  piper- 
priests  and  of  the  women  in  ancient  Kome;  but  above  all 
by  the  profound  conviction  that  certain  degenerative 
changes — industrial,  social,  hygienic,  and  religious — are 
going  on  in  our  civilization  and  especially  in  our  own  land 
which  may  perhaps  be  realized  by  a  larger  historic  per 
spective,  which  only  imagination  can  supply.  It  might 
have  been  entitled,  * '  Strikes  of  Doctors,  Lawyers,  Teachers, 
Clergy,  and  finally  Women,  Causing  the  Downfall  and  at 
last  the  Physical  Engulfment  of  a  Superstate."  It  is  in 
some  sense  an  aftermath  of  my  "Morale." 

"How  Johnnie's  Vision  Came  True"  was  suggested 
partly  by  the  Schopenhauer-Weininger  theory  of  sex 
counterparts;  also  by  pubic  initiation  rites  and  their 
morale,  described  in  my  "Adolescence."  It  is  meant,  too, 
to  illustrate  the  psychology  of  Doppelganger  and  of  Mowd- 
sucht,  as  represented  by  Bank  and  Sadger  respectively,  a 
theme  which  many  writers  have  attempted  from  Peter 
Schlemihl  to  Wilde's  Dorian  Grey. 

"A  Conversion"  is  from  a  barren,  narrow  religiosity  to 
true  morality,  and  illustrates  the  same  psychological  prin 
ciple  which  Schrempf  attempted  to  validate  in  his  CEdipus 

468425 


vi  PREFACE 

redivivus  theory  that  Jesus  was,  like  Augustine,  a  fallen 
man  restored.  One  grave  lapse  may  bring  atoning  virtue 
of  a  higher  kind  by  way  of  compensation. 

"Preestablished  Harmony "  is  not  so  much  an  extrava 
ganza  of  the  " personal  equation"  as  psychologists  know  it, 
as  of  the  older  philosophy  of  "  correspondences, "  with  of 
course  no  trace  of  imagination  in  it. 

" Getting  Married  in  Germany"  is  an  almost  literal  ac 
count,  in  which  my  wife  collaborated,  of  our  actual  ex 
perience  in  being  married  in  Berlin — although  I  did  not 
fail  in  my  examination,  as  the  hero  of  the  story  is  made 
to  do.  This  was  printed  in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  in  1881, 
and  I  here  express  thanks  for  the  permission  to  republish 
it. 

"A  Man's  Adventure  in  Domestic  Industries"  is  an  il 
lustration  of  one  of  the  various  forms  of  midsummer  mad 
ness  which  the  author  has  experienced  and  observed. 

"A  Leap  Year  Romance."  I  have  rediscovered  and  in 
cluded  this  boyish  effusion,  first  printed  in  Applet on' 's 
Journal,  1878,  with  hesitation.  I  think  I  had  never  read 
it  from  the  time  it  appeared  until  just  now  and  had  so 
entirely  forgotten  how  it  came  out  that  it  seemed  as  though 
it  could  hardly  be  mine.  It  is  a  good  transcript,  I  think, 
of  the  outer  and  inner  life  of  a  typical  small  western  col 
lege  and  of  the  experiences  of  a  young  professorling.  No 
young  lady  who  to-day  might  make  such  unconventional 
advances  toward  the  man  of  her  choice  would  or  should 
ever  be  subjected  to  anything  like  such  penance,  and  per 
haps  the  day  is  nearer  than  we  think  when  woman  can, 
with  all  propriety,  take  the  first  step,  as  the  instances  are 
already  vastly  more  common  than  we  dull  males  realize 
when  their  initiative  is  decisive  in  happy  matings.  Per 
haps  the  chief  point  illustrated  here  is  the  religious  sub 
limation  of  love  in  the  heroine. 

The  "Note  on   Early  Memories,"  written  some  years 


PREFACE  vii 

ago,  should  not  perhaps  have  been  included  here,  for  if 
it  has  any  value  it  is  a  purely  psychological  one,  illustrating 
how  experiences  very  long  and  effectively  submerged  may 
with  reenvisagement  be  made  to  glow  up  slowly  and  dimly 
after  the  lapse  of  decades.  To  the  writer  the  chief  lesson 
of  this  study  was  the  intense  and  predominantly  emotional 
response  of  childhood  to  every  feature  of  its  environment, 
for,  over  and  over,  when  there  was  no  trace  of  recollection 
or  anything  which  psychology  regards  as  memory,  objects 
once  familiar  evoked  a  very  high  degree  of  affectivity, 
quite  without  imagery  of  any  kind,  indicating  that  it  is 
the  generic  tone  that  survives  most  persistently,  and  also 
that  country  life  and  its  close  contact  with  Nature  in  child 
hood  develops  rich  and  rank  forms  of  emotivity,  which  are 
totally  unconscious  at  the  time,  so  that  the  survival  value 
of  these  unconscious  experiences  is  far  greater  than  our 
current  psychology  has  ever  suspected. 

I  am  under  unusual  obligations  to  my  secretary,  Miss 
Mary  M.  McLoughlin,  who  collected  and  has  read  proof  of 
all  the  articles  and  has  also  made  many  helpful  sugges 
tions. 

G.  STANLEY  HAUL 
WORCESTER,  MASS. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTUB 

I.    THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS 

I.    THE  ORIGIN  OP  THIS  SCREED 1 

II.    THE  STORY  OF  OUR  DISCOVERY  OP  ATLANTIS    .  7 

III.  THE  CULT  OF  HEALTH  AND  ITS  DECLINE      .     .  17 

IV.  THE  TRIUMPH  AND  FALL  OF  JUSTICE    ...  28 
V.    THE  GLORY  AND  SHAME  OF  LEARNING       .     .  45 

VI.    THE  ZENITH  AND  NADIR  OP  RELIGION  ...  71 

VII.    WOMAN  AT  HER  BEST  AND  WORST       ...  99 

VIII.    THE  LAST  SCENES  AND  DAYS  OP  ATLANTIS     .  116 

II.    How  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE 128 

III.  A  CONVERSION 147 

IV.  PREESTABLISHED  HARMONY— A  MIDSUMMER  REVERY  OP  A 

PSYCHOLOGIST 175 

V.    GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY 184 

VI.    A  MAN'S  ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES  .     .     .  204 

VII.    A  LEAP  YEAR  ROMANCE 221 

VIII.    NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES 297 


I 

TH  K  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS 
I 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THIS  SCREED 

FOR  days  I  had  racked  my  brain  as  a  member  of  a  com 
mittee  to  arbitrate  one  of  the  over  three  hundred  strikes 
on  at  that  time  in  this  country,  and  we  were  almost  in 
despair  trying  to  reconcile  the  irreconcilables  of  both  sides. 
I  had  worked  till  very  late  that  night  trying  to  develop  a 
new  plan  which  seemed  a  forlorn  hope  and  yet  a  hope, 
and  as  a  nightcap  I  happened  to  pick  up  a  copy  of  Plato 
which  opened  in  the  Republic  where  Critias  tells  "the 
old-world  story  of  Atlantis  which  had  come  down  in  his 
family  from  his  ancestor,  Solon,  who  got  it  in  Egypt." 
This  always  seemed  to  me  about  the  most  charming  of  all 
the  so-called  Platonic  myths.  This  marvelous  kingdom,  he 
tells  us,  once  filled  a  large  part  of  what  is  now  the  Atlantic 
basin  west  of  the  Pillars  of  Hercules.  The  soil  was  rich 
and  yielded  twice  a  year.  All  metals,  including  all  the 
precious  ones,  and  jewels  were  found  here  in  great  abun 
dance,  and  there  was  a  high  and  central  mountain  city 
surrounded  by  a  vast  plain,  itself  bounded  by  a  canal  one 
hundred  feet  deep,  six  hundred  feet  broad,  and  three 
thousand  miles  long.  A  temple  of  indescribable  magnificence 
had  been  reared  to  Neptune,  the  patron  deity,  with  a  roof 
of  ivory  and  pinnacles  of  gold,  and  in  it  was  a  huge  golden 
statue  of  the  god  reaching  to  the  very  roof,  surrounded  by 
one  hundred  Nereids  riding  on  dolphins.  There  was  also 
a  golden  statue  of  Atlas  and  the  Ten  Kings  and  their  wives. 

1 


2  RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

There  were  ten  thousand  chariots  and  twelve  hundred 
ships.  Never  had  the  world  seen  such  wealth  and  power 
as  in  this  glorious  state  nine  thousand  years  before  the 
great  deluge! 

"For  many  generations  the  people  of  this  island  were 
obedient  to  the  laws  and  their  kings  ruled  them  wisely  and 
uprightly,  setting  no  value  on  their  riches  nor  caring 
for  aught  save  for  virtue  only.  But  as  time  went  on,  the 
divine  part  of  them  slowly  grew  faint  and  they  waxed 
insolent,  and  thus  in  the  very  plentitude  of  their  power 
they  provoked  the  jealousy  of  the  gods,  who  determined  to 
destroy  them."  The  Athenians  in  an  age  of  great  glory 
that  had  been  forgotten  conquered  them  and  "there  was 
an  earthquake  and  a  deluge  and  the  earth  opened  and 
swallowed  up"  victors  and  vanquished,  and  the  great 
island  sank  beneath  the  sea  so  that  where  it  was  there  is  to 
day  only  water,  mud-  and  sand-banks. 

Would,  I  thought  as  I  sleepily  closed  the  volume,  that 
this  antique  legend  had  told  us  more  than  is  implied  in 
the  above  few  phrases  of  the  causes  of  the  decline  and  fall 
of  this  most  wondrous  empire  of  earth!  The  "jealousy  of 
the  gods"  and  the  "earthquake  and  deluge"  must  in  our 
age  be  regarded  only  as  symbols,  but  of  what?  Must  na 
tions,  even  the  greatest,  die  like  individuals?  Can  man 
never  reach  a  stable  society  like  that  of  such  lowly 
creatures  as  bees  and  ants  whose  form  of  state  is  far  older 
than  man  and  which  will  perhaps  last  on  unchanged  when 
man  is  extinct?  With  this  thought  I  threw  myself,  still 
dressed,  upon  a  couch  in  my  den  and  slept. 

It  was  Saturday  night  and  on  Sunday  morning  I  awoke 
to  find  my  faithful  Henri,  who  for  years  has  cared  for  my 
small  suite,  served  such  meals  as  I  want  in  my  room,  and 
looked  after  me  generally,  just  entering  with  my  break 
fast.  Henri  was  intelligent  and  observant,  rarely  spoke 
unless  spoken  to,  knew  all  my  needs  and  even  whims,  and 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  3 

was  so  devoted  that  it  seemed  as  though  his  only  purpose 
in  life  was  to  make  me  comfortable.  Long  ago  I  had 
rescued  him  from  a  fate  worse  than  death,  and  he  knew 
that  in  my  way  I  was  no  less  devoted  to  him  than  he  to 
me — but  that  is  another  story.  Occasionally  when  I  had 
been  very  intent  upon  my  work  (for  I  was  a  fairly  suc 
cessful  writer  of  social  and  political  romances)  I  had  not 
left  my  quarters  for  days  and  had  seen  only  him. 

On  awaking  now  I  found  myself  fully  dressed  and  not 
in  bed  but  on  the  couch  in  my  den.  Rising  to  my  feet, 
I  was  surprised  to  find  myself  feeling  faint  and  should 
have  fallen  had  Henri  not  supported  and  assisted  me  to 
a  chair.  I  felt  seedy  and  mussed  and  was  surprised  to 
find,  as  I  rested  my  chin  upon  my  hand,  that  there  was 
a  week's  growth  of  beard  upon  my  face.  I  called  for  a 
mirror  and  drew  back  at  what  I  saw.  My  cheeks  were 
haggard,  there  were  dark  rings  under  my  eyes,  my  linen 
was  soiled,  and  I  was  generally  tousled  and  disheveled. 
* f  What  does  all  this  mean,  Henri  ? "  I  cried.  And  then  slowly 
it  all  came  out.  It  was  indeed  Sunday  morning,  but  a  week 
had  passed,  of  which  I  could  recall  nothing.  Henri  said 
I  had  not  once  slept  in  bed  or  removed  my  clothes,  bathed, 
or  made  any  toilet,  and  had  partaken  mechanically  of  the 
three  daily  meals  he  had  served,  ignoring  him  and  leaving 
his  questions  unanswered.  He  said  I  had  been  writing 
every  day  and  had  not  once  left  my  rooms  during  the 
week.  I  could  recall  nothing,  but  I  had  a  haunting  sense 
that  Morpheus  had  brought  me  a  wonderful  dream  full  of 
strange  beauty  and  also  of  pathos  and  tragedy.  Long  I 
strove  to  recall  at  least  some  items  of  it,  but  in  vain.  Al 
though  Henri  insisted  that  I  had  spent  most  of  my  time 
in  writing,  no  manuscript  was  anywhere  to  be  found. 

When  I  had  bathed,  changed,  breakfasted,  visited  the 
barber,  trimmed  my  nails,  looked  over  the  papers  of  the 
last  week  and  also  my  accumulated  mail,  and  cross-exam- 


4          RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ined  Henri  (who  reported  that  he  had  thought  me  so 
strange  and  preoccupied  that  he  had  made  excuses  to 
visitors  and  telephone  calls,  for  which  discretion  I  com- 
mejided  him)  and  had  done  what  I  could  to  arrange  my 
delayed  affairs,  I  sat  down  to  think  it  all  over. 

I  realized  that  I  was  not  "all  there"  and  also  that  I 
must  have  perpetrated  one  of  those  psychic  fugues  from 
reality  of  which  I  had  read  much.  But  of  what  my  autistic 
mind  had  done  or  where  it  had  been  during  the  lost  week  I 
could  find  no  hint  or  cue.  Had  my  fugitive  soul  been  lured 
away  by  some  good  or  bad  power ;  had  my  scribblings  been 
mad  nonsense  or  perhaps  in  some  unknown  tongue,  which, 
if  it  ever  be  found,  would  need  the  genius  and  patience  of 
a  Pfister  or  a  Maeder  to  interpret;  or  had  my  personality 
been  a  mere  calamus  or  pen,  as  of  old  the  Evangelists  were 
thought  to  be  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  or  had  I  written  some 
thing  that  illustrated  the  higher  powers  of  man — in  some 
rapt  state  of  trance  or  ecstasy,  as  their  muse  sometimes  in 
spires  great  geniuses  to  do,  an  experience  of  which  I  had 
hitherto  never  had  the  slightest  trace?  Long  I  pondered 
trying  to  find  some  point  of  contact  with  my  dissociated 
other  self. 

When  at  length  I  roused  myself  and  turned  to  my  ne 
glected  task  of  strike  arbitration,  and  later  of  continuing 
the  serial  story  to  which  I  had  given  all  my  spare  time 
and  energy  before  this  remarkable  episode,  it  was  with  a 
distinct  abatement  of  the  zest  that  usually  impelled  me. 
Some  quality  of  virtue  seemed  to  have  gone  out  of  me.  All 
the  world  I  knew  seemed  not  only  less  real  and  actual  but 
at  times  almost  phantasmal  and  dreamlike.  Men  appeared 
somehow  a  little  less  worthy ;  women  not  quite  so  adorable ; 
our  very  civilization  less  satisfactory;  and  the  future  of 
the  race  less  assured  and  bright.  I  found  mediocrity  where 
I  had  before  seen  excellence,  and  in  all  I  did  there  was  a 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  5 

tinge  of  anxiety  or  fearsomeness  that  took  no  form  and 
had  no  object;  and  thus  things  went  on  for  weeks. 

One  morning  Henri  brought  me  a  bulky  package  in 
my  mail.  When  I  opened  it,  words  cannot  describe  my 
amazement,  for  it  contained  a  manuscript,  unquestionably 
in  my  own  handwriting,  already  set  up  in  galley  proof,  of 
the  narrative  which  follow  o.  I  perused  it  with  growing 
wonder  and  awe  for  it  all  seemed  new  to  me.  And  yet  I 
had  to  accept  the  evidence  that  my  own  hand  had  written 
it,  and  Henri  recollected  having  mailed  a  large  envelope 
for  me  late  the  Saturday  night  before  I  found  myself. 

Now  at  last,  although  the  dark  veil  of  amnesia  still  sepa 
rates  this  extraordinary  week  from  the  rest  of  my  life,  it 
is  pretty  clear  what  happened.  As  a  patriot  and  a  student 
of  social,  industrial,  and  political  affairs  from  a  romancer's 
point  of  view,  I  had  grown  more  and  more  depressed  at 
the  conditions  and  prospects  not  only  of  my  own  country 
but  of  the  world  in  the  reactions  that  followed  the  war — 
not  only  labor  troubles  but  profiteering;  the  inability  of 
cranky,  irreconcilable  wills  to  compromise  and  do  team 
work;  the  lack  of  public  spirit  in  public  affairs,  and  the 
persistence  and  dominance  of  private  interests  everywhere ; 
the  leaders  who,  faced  by  problems  too  large  for  them, 
showed  all  the  neurotic  symptoms  of  balking,  stressing 
minor  points  because  perspective  had  been  lost  in  the 
sudden  larger  horizon;  the  dominance  of  sectional,  class, 
party,  and  even  individual  views  and  interests  all  the  more 
marked  after  the  splendid  unity  of  all  during  the  war.  My 
larger  racial  unconscious  self  had,  under  all  these  depress 
ing  impulsions,  executed  a  unique  flight  from  all  the  reality 
of  our  present  era  to  another  and  extinct  one.  I  had  left 
my  world  and  taken  refuge  in  another  in  which  fancy  had 
sought  to  give  expression  to  all  the  latent  hopes  and  fears 
that  the  present  situation  has  inspired  for  our  civilization. 


6          RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

Thus  I  hardly  yet  have  any  sense  of  personal  ownership 
in  my  screed. 

It  is  in  a  sense  a  dream  within  a  dream.  There  was 
first  a  projection  of  eighty  years  into  the  future  in  our  own 
era  when  the  discovery  of  the  Atlantean  remains  were 
made,  and  then  a  projection  backward  many  thousand 
years  toward  the  beginning  of  another  era.  But  if  this 
double  involution  makes  it  hard  and  perhaps  impossible 
for  me  to  connect  the  consciousness  of  this  strange  and 
perhaps  almost  insane  week  of  my  life  with  my  real,  nor 
mal  self,  it  may  also  reduce  the  chance  of  my  ever  falling 
into  this  state  again.  If  I  ever  do  so  and  succeed  in  unifying 
my  riven  soul,  remembering  freely  from  one,  to  the  other 
state,  this  would  be  a  symbol  that  our  own  age  may  come 
to  knit  up  into  its  life  the  lessons  of  the  era  here  resumed 
and  really  profit  by  them,  and  then  I  need  not  regard  my 
narrative  as  fiction  but  as  veracious,  authentic,  and  quin 
tessential  history  to  be  taught,  when  its  "fuller  records  are 
published,  in  every  educational  institution  throughout  our 
world  and  in  our  colleges  and  universities,  with  professor 
ates  that  specialize  in  it  alone.  It  will  be  also  noted  that, 
while  nothing  that  transpired  in  my  mind  during  this  week 
is  known  to  me,  when  I  was  in  this  secondary  state  I 
seemed  to  have  been  able  to  command  all  my  own  knowledge 
of  things  in  my  primal  and  normal  state,  so  that  the 
power  and  range  of  my  faculties  were  for  seven  days  greatly 
enhanced,  and  it  is  doubtless  this  experience  that  causes 
me  ever  since  to  be  haunted  with  an  oppressive  feeling  of 
inferiority  which,  try  as  I  may,  I  cannot  shake  off,  and 
which,  added  to  the  depressive  fears  lest  we  of  to-day  may 
be  going  the  way  of  Atlantis,  almost  drives  me  to  melan 
cholia. 

While  I  have  no  belief  in  spirit  guidance  or  in  any  kind 
of  supernatural  impartation,  I  cannot  escape  a  certain  awe 
at  this  creation  of  my  subliminal  self  which  prevents  me 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  7 

from  changing  a  line  or  a  syllable  of  the  manuscript  which 
thus  came  to  me  and  on  which  at  least  I  have  a  stronger 
claim  than  any  one  else.  Here,  then,  it  is. 

n 

THE  STORY  OF  OUR  DISCOVERY  OF  ATLANTIS 

IT  was  the  year  2000  A.D.  It  was  almost  a  new  world 
as  compared  with  ours  of  to-day.  China,  which  had  greatly 
extended  her  boundaries,  was  the  most  advanced  and  pow 
erful  of  all  the  states  of  the  world,  and  Slavo-Germania 
came  next.  England,  France  and  Italy  were  federated 
together  and  with  us,  so  that  we  felt  that  the  boundaries  of 
eastern  France  and  northern  Italy  were  part  of  our  own 
frontier.  The  states  of  Latin  America  had  organized 
themselves  into  one  great  republic,  and  only  Africa  was 
still  divided  and  subjected.  Surface  transportation  on 
land  survived  for  all  heavy  wares,  and  air  roadways  were 
marked  out  in  levels  superposed  one  above  the  other,  and 
the  very  intricate  traffic  rules  were  enforced  by  flying 
policemen.  By  this  method  only  could  the  sky,  especially 
in  the  earlier  and  later  hours  of  the  day,  be  kept  from 
being  darkened  in  many  places  by  the  clouds  of  aerial  voy 
agers  on  their  way  between  their  suburban  homes  and  ur 
ban  offices.  Thus  there  were  hundreds  of  very  high  and 
many-storied  garages,  to  which  rapidly  moving  lifts  were 
attached.  Electricity  had  largely  taken  the  place  of  steam 
and  was  also  used  everywhere  for  light  and  cooking.  The 
telegraph  and  telephone  had  been  largely  superseded  by 
wireless  systems.  Submarines  could  explore  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  where  vast  mineral  wealth  had  been  found,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  salvage  from  the  thousands  of  treasure 
ships  ever  since  navigation  began.  Indeed  it  would  require 
volumes,  if  not  libraries,  to  tell  of  all  the  discoveries  and 


8    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

inventions,  of  the  advances  of  science,  and  all  the  great 
social  reforms  achieved,  and  also,  alas!  of  all  the  growing 
evils,  which  constituted  a  no  less  sinister  menace  to  the 
advancement  of  the  human  race  than  do  those  of  our  own 
day.  The  whole  world  was  overpopulated.  Every  state 
and  race  had  accepted  the  religion  of  eugenics  and  felt 
that  the  future  belonged  to  those  of  them  that  were  most 
fecund,  and  the  squalor  and  vice  at  the  bottom  of  the  hu 
man  scale  were  never  so  destructive.  Christian  churches 
survived,  but  in  their  Protestant  section  chiefly  as  ethical 
culture  societies,  for  no  one  save  only  the  vulgar  and  super 
stitious  believed  in  individual  survival  after  death  or  in  a 
personal  god,  but  most  felt  that  this  world  must  be  so 
organized  that  man  got  his  deserts  here  and  in  it.  Catholi 
cism  alone  was  almost  absolutely  unchanged.  It  had 
neither  progressed  nor  regressed.  The  rivalry  between 
culture  and  Kultur  was  still  on.  Marriage  was  more  cir 
cumspect,  divorce  easier,  woman  had  become  a  greater  so 
cial  and  even  political  power,  and  man  left  to  her  the  con 
trol  of  nearly  all  matters  relating  to  sex,  family  and  young 
children.  But  all  these  items  and  many  more  at  present 
were  irrelevant  to  my  dream.  Nor  were  they  the  tenden 
cies  that  chiefly  determined  it,  and  they  have  nothing  to 
do  with  its  great  lesson. 

In  this  new  dreamworld  I  had  long  been  a  student  of  the 
past,  intent  on  learning  all  I  could  of  every  extinct  civi 
lization,  and  I  also  had  a  pragmatic  propensity  to  utilize 
every  lesson  I  could  find  here  by  applying  it  to  present 
needs.  I  was  a  professor  and  had  lectured  on  the  history 
of  excavations,  not  only  those  at  Pompeii,  Rome,  Egypt, 
and  Babylonia,  but  also  those  of  Troy  and  Mycenae.  The 
older  and  more  completely  vanished  and  forgotten  by  his 
tory  and  revealed  only  by  the  spade  were  these  ancient 
peoples,  the  greater  was  my  interest  in  them.  We  had 
already  deciphered  the  long-baffling  inscriptions  of  Yuca- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  9 

tan,  had  learned  to  read  the  quipu  and  the  Druidic  runes 
as  we  had  long  before  learned  to  read  Egyptian  hiero 
glyphs,  thanks  to  the  Kosetta  stone.  I  had  also  been  in 
terested  in  lake  dwellings,  kitchen  middens,  mounds,  the 
gigantic  stone  images  of  the  Easter  Islands,  dolmens,  and 
all  vestiges  of  earlier  man,  not  like  the  anthropologists  of 
our  day,  who  are  so  keen  for  traces  of  paleolithic  cave- 
dwellers,  for  the  Pithecanthropus  and  the  Neanderthal 
race  had  little  interest  for  me,  for  I  was  an  archeologist 
whose  chief  desire  was  to  extend  the  limits  of  the  early 
history  of  advanced  races  everywhere  backwards. 

In  the  year  2000  A.D.  there  was  great  interest  in  ex 
ploring  the  sea  basin  for  traces  of  man  in  the  last  areas 
of  land  that  had  been  submerged  by  geologic  and  other 
cosmic  and  seismic  influences,  and  there  was  much  theoriz 
ing  concerning  what  Haeckel  had  called  Lemuria,  a  lost 
sunken  area  somewhere  between  Madagascar  and  Australia, 
of  which  hundreds  of  eastward  islands  were  the  sunken  and 
therefore  disconnected  highlands,  a  land  in  which  many  be 
lieved  we  should  find  the  true  cradle  of  the  human  race 
if  it  was  ever  found  at  all.  Here,  too,  it  was  believed 
man  might  possibly  learn  to  read  his  title  clearer  to  being 
a  descendant  of  the  extinct  great  fossil  apes  of  Europe, 
whom  the  last  great  extension  of  the  glacial  era,  which  has 
now  retreated  to  the  present  polar-ice  cap,  once  drove 
southward.  Certain  it  is  that  very  much  of  the  present 
sea  area  had  once  been  land.  All  this  and  more  of  the 
same  sort  was  more  or  less  present  in  my  strange  dream, 
as  indeed  it  had  so  often  been  in  waking  hours,  for  my  chief 
wish  in  the  world  had  long  been  to  add  to  present-day 
knowledge  in  this  field,  and  now  sleep  brought  a  unique 
wish-fulfillment,  as  so  many  dreams  are  only  wishes  come 
true. 

As  my  dream  unfolded,  a  great  expedition  of  subma 
rines  was  being  equipped  to  explore  the  bottom  of  the  sea  in 


10         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

quest  of  traces  of  the  sunken  Atlantis.  Homer  had  been 
proved  more  or  less  right  about  ancient  Troy,  once  thought 
pure  myth,  and  why  might  not  the  conjecture  of  Plato, 
a  far  more  scientific  thinker,  be  more  than  day-dreaming 
when  he  told  us  of  Atlantis?  Perhaps  the  "mountain  city, 
zones  of  the  sea,  the  king's  palace,  the  golden  temple,  and 
the  statues'7  might  now  be  really  found;  and  if  they  ever 
were,  what  a  wondrous  new  chapter  it  would  add  to  his 
tory;  what  a  new  hope  of  idealities  in  statecraft  it  would 
bring ;  what,  if  the  causes  of  its  destruction  could  be  ascer 
tained,  a  wholesome  warning  it  might  give  to  modern 
man!  As  it  is,  belief  that  man  could  rise  so  high  and 
nevertheless  sink  to  utter  extinction  is,  to  say  the  least,  not 
a  very  solid  basis  for  optimism.  Perhaps  better  knowledge 
of  the  fate  of  Atlantis  would  give  us  a  new  sorely  needed 
lesson  in  humility.  This  was  my  general  attitude,  and  so 
great  was  my  interest  in  this  new  project  that  I  had  my 
self  enrolled  among  the  many  savants  who  had  some  of 
the  spirit  that  animated  the  quest  for  the  Holy  Grail  or  the 
Niebelungen  Hoard. 

There  were  three  of  these  very  unique  and  complicated 
seacraft  equipped  for  this  expedition,  a  description  of 
which  would  be  far  too  long,  even  if  I  had  understood 
them,  which  I  did  only  in  part.  Suffice  it  here  to  say, 
therefore,  that  they  could  rise,  too,  and  go  on  the  sur 
face,  while  they  could  also  crawl  along  the  bottom  like 
war  tanks,  but  were  usually  moved  by  their  propellers. 
They  were  immensely  strong  to  resist  the  great  pressure 
of  the  pontic  abysses,  and  there  were  also  very  intricate 
devices  for  grappling  and  bringing  in  small,  and  looping 
and  maintaining  wire  connections  with  large  objects. 
Clever  mechanisms  controlled  air  pressure,  extracting  oxy 
gen  from  the  sea,  and  there  were  very  thick  and  solid  ob 
servation  windows  of  glass,  through  which  electric  lights 
enabled  us  to  see  far  into  clear  and  somewhat  even  into 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  11 

muddy  and  oozy  water.    But  all  these  descriptions  are  quite 
aside  from  my  purpose. 

We  started  our  three  huge  craft  abreast  from  a  point 
near  Cape  Hatteras,  about  36°  N.,  and  laid  our  course 
almost  exactly  along  this  latitude  for  Gibraltar  or  the  Pil 
lars  of  Hercules.  After  some  fourteen  miles  of  shallow 
but  very  slowly  deepening  shore  water,  we  slid  some  two 
thousand  feet  down  the  steep  sea-wall  that  skirts  our 
eastern  coast  into  the  abysmal  waters  that  constitute  the 
true  ocean.  It  was,  of  course,  inky  dark,  absolutely  sound 
less,  and  there  was  no  motion,  for  we  were  far  below  the 
reach  of  waves,  storms,  or  oceanic  currents.  There  were 
also  very  few  forms  of  life,  although  it  was  the  graveyard 
of  all  the  higher  species  which  had  for  ages  slowly  rained 
down  upon  the  bottom  as  they  died.  Our  progress  was 
very  slow,  despite  our  high-powered  batteries,  especially  so 
when  we  had  to  climb  some  sunken  atoll  or  reef  tankwise. 
We  also  photographed  every  item  of  interest  which  our 
electric  lights  revealed.  But  the  irksomeness  of  the  days, 
weeks,  and  months  that  followed  was  indescribably  depress 
ing.  Every  twenty-fourth  day  or  so  was  a  gala  day,  for 
then  we  had  to  rise  for  fresh  oxygen,  after  tethering  our 
selves  to  the  bottom  by  an  anchor  so  that  we  might  re 
trace  its  cable  to  the  same  spot,  and  it  was  glorious  to  see 
the  light  and  to  feel  and  hear  the  movements  of  wind  and 
wave.  At  length,  nearing  the  end  of  the  fifth  month,  after 
eleven  days  of  very  gradual  ascent  along  the  bottom,  my 
craft,  the  middle  one,  found  itself  against  a  steep  wall  of 
basaltic  stone,  rising  at  an  angle  of  45°.  Further 
examination  showed  that  it  was  composed  of  huge  blocks  of 
stone  of  geometrical  shapes,  closely  set  together,  not  like 
those  of  Staffa,  but  evidently  fitted  and  at  some  time  mor 
tised  by  human  hands.  These  our  photographs  showed. 
The  other  craft  were  signaled  and  came  to  our  aid,  and  in 
a  few  days  we  had  its  dimensions  fairly  well  made  out.  It 


12         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  a  square,  about  two  and  one-third  miles  along  each 
base,  and  rose,  not  like  a  teocalli  but  like  an  Egyptian  pyra 
mid  in  steps  to  an  altitude  of  about  1,200  feet.  On  the  top 
was  a  huge  plane,  partly  of  solid  rock,  as  if  a  mountain 
had  been  squarely  truncated,  while  the  rest  of  the  square 
was  completed  by  huge  Cyclopian  masonry.  We  knew  at 
once  that  our  long,  tedious,  and  costly  search  was  rewarded 
and  that  we  had  by  the  rarest  of  good  fortunes  and  that, 
too,  on  our  first  crossing,  almost  stumbled  upon  the  very 
acropolis  of  the  lost  Atlantis.  We  sent  up  buoys  to  the  sur 
face  and  wirelessed  our  discovery.  Thus  began  a  long 
period  of  very  specialized  exploration,  in  which  all  civi 
lized  nations  and  scores  of  savants  participated  with  en 
thusiasm  for  years.  Suffice  it  here  to  say  that  the  remains 
of  the  great  temple  of  Neptune  were  sufficiently  intact  to 
enable  experts  to  reconstruct  its  plan  with  considerable 
confidence,  that  nearly  all  of  the  golden  statues  were  found 
and  also  those  of  the  Nereids.  The  king's  palace,  too,  stood 
on  this  acropolis  beside  the  great  temple,  although  many 
temples  and  many  palaces  in  other  Atlantean  cities  were 
soon  in  process  of  exploration  and  graphic  restoration,  to 
gether  with  many  other  buildings,  so  that  in  a  word  the 
learned  world  was  able  in  a  few  years  to  form  a  rather  defi 
nite  idea  of  the  way  in  which  the  Atlanteans  lived  and  of 
their  social,  industrial  and  religious  life.  The  great  canal, 
'3,000  miles  long,  that  encircled  the  vast  central  plane,  was 
also  preserved  sufficiently  at  many  points  to  enable  scholars 
to  reconstruct  the  whole,  and  there  was  a  most  intricate 
system  of  bridges  and  roads  and  countless  other  things  of 
which  the  Platonic  myth  gives  us  no  hint.  Thus  the  world 
was  able  to  resurrect  from  its  long  watery  grave  a  sunken 
civilization  that  in  many  respects  far  surpassed  any  other 
the  world  has  ever  seen. 

For  two  decades  the  work  of  excavation  went  on,  with 
ever  richer  and  new  discoveries,  and  all  mankind  stood 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  13 

aghast  to  find  that  these  ancient  people  not  only  knew 
every  art  and  science  of  our  own  day  but  had  far  surpassed 
us.  No  soil  ever  began  to  be  so  rich.  Gold,  silver,  and 
every  kind  of  precious  stones  were  as  common  as  copper 
or  fine  quartz  is  to-day.  Half  of  this  sunken  continent 
island  was  underlaid  with  rich,  deep  strata  of  the  finest 
coal  the  use  of  which  had  been  mainly  superseded.  Every 
kind  of  transportation,  even  by  air,  was  highly  developed. 
There  were  great  seats  of  learning  and  societies  of  savants, 
vast  libraries  and  museums,  amusement  palaces,  forums  for 
games,  assembly  halls,  and  vast  power-houses  which  gener 
ated  electricity  for  every  use,  domestic,  industrial,  and 
public.  Illiteracy  was  unknown.  Eugenics  had  long  been 
so  organized  that  parenthood  could  be  licensed  only  after 
a  medical  and  psychic  examination.  Hygiene  was  so  highly 
developed,  too,  that  the  average  length  of  life  was  nearing 
one  hundred  years.  There  was  little  social  or  industrial 
loss  from  illness,  so  that  the  sick  or  invalided  were  always 
subjected  to  suspicion.  In  stature  the  men  averaged  about 
seven  inches  taller  than  those  of  our  tallest  races,  the 
Swedes  and  Patagonians,  and  the  women  were  models  of 
symmetry  and  beauty.  To  keep  oneself  always  at  the 
top  of  one's  condition  was  the  central  item  of  their  code 
of  ethics.  Once  a  year  every  child  and  adult  must  strip, 
be  tested,  and  examined  to  see  if  he  was  maintaining  his 
own,  or  gaining  in  knowledge,  health,  and  virtue,  and  he 
was  disfranchised  and  barred  from  parenthood  if  he  fell 
below  the  standard,  for  human  quality  was  a  cofactor  with 
numbers  in  augmenting  the  power  of  the  state. 

Crete  was  the  capital  and  emporium  of  the  Atlantean 
colony  of  Europe,  Tyre  of  her  Asiatic,  Sais  of  her  African 
colonies,  and  Quito,  the  home  of  the  predecessors  of  the 
Peruvian  Incas,  who  then  ruled  all  South  America,  was  a 
dependency  from  which  heavy  tribute  was  derived.  China 
was,  next  to  Egypt,  the  richest  and  most  powerful  of  her 


14         RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

provinces.  Japan  and  North  America  were  then  but 
sparsely  populated  and  negligible  in  the  world  policy  of 
Atlantean  statesmanship,  although  the  Ainos  and  once 
powerful  but  now  extinct  Boethuk  Indians  of  Northeast 
America  had  traditions  of  her  greatness,  and  these  coun 
tries  were  often  visited  by  her  pioneers  and  explorers. 
Thus  this  colossal  and  magnificent  empire  ruled  the  world, 
and  all  our  scattered  traditions  of  a  golden  age  and  of 
Paradise  that  Pfleiderer  has  collected  and  which  Warren 
wrongly  placed  near  the  North  Pole,  when  it  was  more 
tropical,  were  only  faintly  reminiscent  of  Atlantis  in  her 
glory. 

As  these  discoveries  proceeded,  contemporary  man  the 
world  over  was  slowly  compelled  to  a  more  modest  idea 
of  himself  and  his  boasted  progress.  He  came  to  realize 
that  he  had  been  surpassed  at  every  point  by  ancient  and 
forgotten  people,  that  he  was  only  a  crude  apprentice  to 
life,  that  better  things  than  he  had  ever  dreamed  had  al 
ready  happened,  but  also  that  there  had  somehow  been  a 
great  fall  only  very  crudely  symbolized  by  the  myth  of 
Eden,  or  by  the  deluge  which  Plato  said  engulfed  Atlantis. 
Some  began  to  wonder  whether  the  old  legend  of  eternal 
recurrence,  which  had  so  obsessed  the  mind  of  poor  Nietz 
sche,  might  not  be  true.  Perhaps  there  was  a  great  cosmic 
cycle  of  24,000  years,  after  which  the  slate  of  history  had 
been  wiped  clean  and  everything  repeated  itself  almost  in 
the  same  order  as  before.  Perhaps  man  was  destined  to  toil 
painfully  upward  until  he  reached  a  certain  maximum  of 
culture  and  civilization  and  then  was  doomed  to  decline  to 
barbarism,  and  in  time  to  start  upward  again  with  new 
stirps  as  the  organ  of  a  new  Zeitgeist  that  was  really  the 
old  one  disguised,  slowly  turning  the  secular  wheel  of  fate. 
During  each  cosmic  day  the  great  Knitter  was  always  knit 
ting  her  marvelous  web,  which  each  morning  saw  unraveled 
during  the  night,  and  so  it  would  be  in  saecula  saeculorum, 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  15 

while  the  gods  looked  on  and  laughed  at  the  poor  fool  they 
had  created  for  their  delectation.  What  a  comedy  it  must 
all  be  to  them !  But  some  of  the  best  of  us  could  and  would 
not  accept  this  logic  of  despair.  We  felt  that  man  could 
and  must  now  beat  the  gods  at  their  own  game.  By  these 
discoveries  we  tore  aside  the  watery  curtain  they  had  inter 
posed  between  successive  eons.  We  had  found  out  the 
sponge  they  used  to  erase  the  tablets  of  history  which  myth 
has  always  called  a  deluge.  We  now  could  see  that  this  was 
all  done  by  alternating  sea  and  land.  In  one  eon  the  sea- 
bottom  became  dry  land,  and  in  the  next  the  land  surface 
became  the  sea-bottom.  Now  that  we  can  command  knowl 
edge  of  both,  we  "are  on"  to  the  great  secret  of  the  gods. 
If  we  can  only  find  out  why  the  glory  of  the  Atlantean  era 
faded,  we  may  be  able  to  find  the  antidote  for  the  malady. 
Very  likely  all  the  Atlanteans  (for  there  may  have  been  a 
long  series  of  them)  died  of  the  same  disease,  and,  if  so, 
what  was  it  and  is  there  anywhere  any  cure,  or  even  any 
nepenthe  ?  If  so,  and  if  we  can  find  or  compose  one,  there 
may  at  last  be  a  kingdom  of  man  that  will  be  at  least  ter 
restrially  immortal,  as  the  bee  and  ant  state  (which  have 
long  preceded  and  now  promise  as  long  to  outlast  man) 
almost  are.  He  will  surely  sometime  grow  tired  of  ever  re 
peating  the  weary  seesaw  way,  marching  up  the  hill  with 
ten  thousand  men  like  the  general  of  nursery  tales  only  to 
march  down  the  same  hill  again. 

This  was  the  momentous  question  so  pregnant  and  fateful 
for  the  future  of  the  human  race,  which  was  often  long 
discussed  in  the  international  conventions  of  savants  who 
presided  over  these  great  discoveries,  and  it  was  this  prob 
lem  of  why  Atlantis  fell  that  was  at  last  assigned  to  a  large 
committee  of  specialists,  of  which  I  was  made  chairman. 
We  had  long  ago  discovered  the  vast  and  hermetically  rock- 
sealed  central  and  official  library  and  state  records,  all  the 
more  important  volumes  of  which  were  printed  by  inden- 


16         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

tation  on  thin  and  flexible  leaves  of  gold  in  characters  so 
microscopically  small  that  we  first  thought  the  sheets 
blank.  These  we  had  with  great  pains  and  expense  mag 
nified  and  photographed  and  after  years  of  study  found  the 
key  to  read,  reconstructing  even  this  deadest  of  all  dead 
languages.  The  details  of  all  these  efforts  and  their  results 
and  interpretations  will  themselves  constitute  many  vol 
umes  of  fascinating  interest  which  will  amaze  the  world 
when  this  committee  reports  in  full.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 
the  Atlantean  language  itself  was  proved  to  have  been  by 
far  the  most  flexible  expression  which  the  human  psyche 
ever  evolved.  The  dictionary  of  one  of  its  academies  in 
forty  volumes  contained  about  one  and  one-half  million 
words,  its  grammar  was  more  systematic  and  logical  than 
that  of  any  language  of  our  era,  and  its  phonic  resources 
exhausted  every  physiological  possibility  of  the  organs  of 
speech.  Doubtless  the  Atlanteans  would  have  laughed  to 
hear  us  speak  their  tongue,  as  we  slowly  learned  to  do  after 
a  fashion,  but  it  was  really  so  apt  and  expressive  that  we 
tended  to  use  it  more  and  more,  until  some  of  us  came  to 
feel  that  our  own  tongue  was  vulgar  and  crude  by  compari 
son,  as  we  developed  a  real  Sprachgefiihl  for  it.  But  I 
must  really  leave  all  this  and  scores  of  other  fascinating 
and  momentous  discoveries  aside  as  irrelevant  and  adhere 
to  those  with  which  my  own  committee  was  charged,  al 
though  I  am  permitted  even  here  at  present  to  set  forth 
only  a  few  of  the  main  essentials,  pending  a  far  fuller 
account. 

In  the  acme  of  her  power  Atlantis  had  slowly  developed 
toward  syndicalism.  All  interests,  including  industries, 
grew  more  and  more  highly  organized.  Each  had  its  local 
and  its  central  board  in  an  ascending  hierarchy.  Each  was 
represented  in  a  municipal,  state,  and  national  legislative 
council.  Laborers  whose  conditions  would  seem  to  us  in 
every  way  ideal,  capitalists  and  employers,  doctors,  priests, 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  17 

farmers,  keepers  and  distributors  of  stores  and  goods, 
women,  artists,  teachers,  engineers,  actors,  and,  in  short, 
each  great  calling  became,  as  we  shall  see,  a  guild  intent 
upon  its  own  interests  instead  of,  as  in  the  golden  age, 
upon  the  public  good  alone.  In  a  word,  and  to  anticipate 
all  that  followed,  the  fall  of  Atlantis  illustrated  the  general 
principle  that  those  who  begin  by  loving  their  own  country 
better  than  they  love  mankind  will  sooner  or  later  lapse 
to  the  next  lower  stage,  in  which  they  love  their  own  party 
better  than  their  country,  their  own  sect  better  than  re 
ligion,  and  will  then  proceed  to  prefer  their  own  group  in 
terests,  economic  or  social,  to  party  or  creed,  and  will  end 
by  losing  themselves  better  than  all  else.  The  Nemesis  of 
hyperdemocratization  is  the  hyperindividuation  it  always 
brings.  All  this  can  best  be  set  forth  if  we  briefly  outline 
a  few  salient  features  of  this  decline  in  a  number  of  the 
leading  guilds  or  Soviets.  Let  us  begin  with  that  of  the 
doctors. 

HI 

THE  CULT  OF  HEALTH  AND  ITS  DECLINE 

IN  the  day  of  its  greatest  glory  physicians  came  near 
illustrating  the  maxim  which  may  have  been  suggested  to 
Hippocrates,  whom  we  call  the  father  of  medicine,  by  some 
not  quite  extinct  tradition  of  Atlantis:  "Godlike  is  the 
doctor  who  is  also  a  philosopher. ' '  In  fact,  philosophy  cul 
minated  in  keeping  the  body,  politic,  social,  and  personal, 
at  the  topnotch  of  its  condition.  Indeed  every  institution, 
habit,  and  vocation  was  graded  for  its  ultimate  value  ac 
cording  to  what  it  contributed  to  this  supreme  end  of  man. 
They  had  a  maxim  which  survived  even  to  the  time  our 
New  Testament  was  written  and  which  Jesus  reproduced 
in  corrupt  form.  It  was,  "What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  health,  or  what  shall 


18         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

a  man  give  in  exchange  for  health?"  Health  was  virtue, 
and  the  temple  of  its  god,  Keepup,  was  quite  as  splendid, 
far  larger  and  more  frequented  than  that  of  Neptune  it 
self.  In  place  of  altars  there  were  baths ;  in  place  of  sacred 
music  there  were  sacred  dances;  and  the  chief  room  in 
the  temple  was  what  we  should  call  a  gymnasium,  and  the 
shrine  was  a  series  of  testing  offices. 

Every  one  had  to  join  the  National  Health  Insurance 
Organization,  to  the  administration  of  which  in  all  its 
many  bureaus  and  complex  details  a  large  staff  of  medical 
officers  gave  all  their  time.  Every  one  paid  a  monthly  rate 
if  he  was  at  the  top  of  his  condition,  while  if  he  fell  below 
his  maximal  efficiency,  his  assessment  to  the  medical  guild 
was  remitted,  and  if  he  was  incapacitated  by  illness,  the 
guild  supported  him  and  his  family  in  the  state  of  living 
to  which  they  were  accustomed  until  recovery  was  com 
plete.  No  one  was  allowed  to  labor  with  mind  or  body  un 
less  he  was  at  the  top  of  his  condition,  and  even  every 
workman's  card  had  to  be  stamped  by  a  health  officer,  after 
a  brief  examination,  each  day  as  he  entered  the  shop,  fac 
tory  or  office.  All  individual  medical  treatment  was,  of 
course,  gratuitous,  and  it  was  thus  for  the  interests  not 
only  of  the  doctor 's  profit  but  for  his  convenience  that  all 
his  hygienic  parishioners  should  be  well.  Thus  the  pre 
vention  of  disease  was  far  more  highly  developed  than 
therapy.  One  group  of  medics  examined  all  children 
within  three  days  of  their  birth,  and  if  they  were  con 
vinced  according  to  certain  formulae  that  by  reason  of 
defect,  inherited  disease,  or  congenital  weakness  or  predis 
position  to  crime  they  were  destined  to  be  a  burden  to 
society  and  to  themselves,  these  children  suffered  painless 
extinction  and  mothers  were  exhorted  in  this  matter  to 
accept  the  inevitable  with  joy  as  in  the  interests  of  the 
state.  Most  of  them  were  Spartan  enough  to  do  so,  al 
though  occasionally  an  exhausted  or  disordered  young 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  19 

mother  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  apartment  would  give 
way  to  paroxysms  of  grief.  To  refuse  or  resist  this  decree 
of  the  guardians  of  the  blood  of  the  tribe  was  incipient 
treason. 

Physicians,  too,  had  to  examine  and  certificate  all  candi 
dates  for  marriage,  and  here  they  formulated  not  only  an 
elaborate  code  of  laws  but  another  less  mandatory  one  of 
advice  and  warnings  which  was  taught  to  all  children  at 
puberty.  Sex  diseases  vere  almost  unknown,  and  if  a 
case  appeared  it  was  isolated  and  penalized  if  it  were 
proved  to  have  been  culpably  contracted,  although  even 
innocent  victims  of  accident  were  permanently  barred  from 
all  future  relations  with  the  other  sex.  Bad  habits  and  all 
forms  of  perversity  in  this  field  were  ruthlessly  eradicated, 
for  the  ancient  Atlanteans  were  already  well  on  the  way 
toward  reducing  man's  hypertrophied  sex  functions  down 
to  or  toward  the  models  of  procreation  set  us  by  the  animal 
world,  for  eugenics  was  not  only  a  science  but  an  art  and 
almost  a  religion.  It  was  under  the  influence  of  this  guild 
that  these  people  had  attained  not  only  their  superior 
stature,  weight,  and  symmetry  but  also  their  longevity. 
Thus  the  laws  of  sanitation  and  hygiene  were  everywhere 
supreme,  and  in  exigencies  superseded  all  others.  Physi 
cians  not  only  inspected  every  individual  home,  workshop, 
office,  mine,  latrine,  etc.,  periodically,  enforcing  everywhere 
standards  for  light,  air,  and  cleanliness,  but  they  examined 
all  foods  and  drinks,  condemning  and  destroying  ruthlessly 
all  that  fell  below  the  requirements.  Purity,  the  nutritive 
and  thermal  values  of  each  staple  food,  were  well  under 
stood,  for  they  were  taught  in  the  schools,  and  suggestions 
were  given  every  person  according  to  his  occupation  and 
constitution  as  to  which  way  he  might  vary  from  the 
dietetic  norm.  Every  infraction  of  any  of  these  laws  was 
almost  sure  to  be  found  out  and  penalized.  By  these 
methods  even  wine-bibbing,  tendencies  to  which  had  never 


20         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

been  entirely  eradicated,  was  sometimes  found  to  a  degree 
that  needed  very  special  attention. 

Antiseptic  surgery  had  far  surpassed  its  highest  achieve 
ments  under  the  civilization  of  to-day.  Organs  and  limhs 
from  fresh  cadavers  could  be  indefinitely  preserved  in  cold 
storage  and  kept  in  readiness  to  graft  on  to  those  who  were 
in  need  of  them.  Transplantation  not  only  of  kidneys, 
liver,  and  all  the  endocrine  glands,  but  even  of  lungs  and 
in  a  few  rare  cases  of  the  heart  itself  had  been  successfully 
accomplished.  It  was  not  uncommon  to  rear  infants  in 
incubators  if  the  mothers  were  found  deficient  in  physio 
logical  resources  or  in  maternal  care.  In  certain  very 
choice  experiments  the  male  and  female  cells  had  been 
developed  in  artificial  media  to  a  certain  point,  and  there 
was  great  rivalry  between  the  foremost  investigators  of 
each  sex  as  to  which  of  them  would  first  develop  com 
pletely  a  true  homunculus  without  the  cooperation  of  the 
other  sex.  It  was  believed  that  all  the  noxious  bacteria  by 
whose  permission  human  life  continues  on  this  globe  were 
known  and  that  antitoxins  had  been  discovered  or  invented 
for  them  all.  In  all  the  centers  of  medical  research  a  great 
many  animals,  large  and  small,  were  of  course  in  constant 
use  as  media  for  the  development  of  different  therapeutic 
agents.  The  chief  Atlantean  cities,  in  a  word,  had  become 
so  spotless  and  hygienic  that  the  very  phagocytes  which 
act  as  scavengers  in  the  human  blood  became  degenerate 
and  almost  extinct  for  lack  of  exercise.  In  extreme  cases 
it  was  possible  to  sustain  life  for  a  long  time  when  the 
entire  alimentary  tract  was  thrown  out  of  gear  by  injection 
of  prepared  chyle  and  chyme,  and  indeed  there  was  a  small 
group  that  hoped  that  eventually  thus  all  the  processes  of 
digestion  from  mastication  to  at  least  the  absorption  of 
the  lacteals  and  the  pouring  of  their  sugared-off  products 
of  digestion  into  the  portal  vein  could  be  done  in  the  labo 
ratory  and  thus  a  large  part  of  the  total  kinetic  energy  of 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  21 

the  body  freed  for  higher  culture,  when  they  believed  a 
race  that  even  Atlanteans  regarded  as  supermen  would  be 
evolved.     There  were  also  guardians  of  sleep  whose  func 
tion  it  was  to  determine  upon  a  curfew  for  different  classes 
and  license  those  who  had  to  be  up  later  to  do  night  work, 
and  to  maintain  more  or  less  tranquillity.    It  was  also  their 
function  to  pass  upon  all  hours  of  labor,  to  prescribe  vaca 
tions  and  even  recreations,  all  of  which  prescriptions  had 
to  be  followed  implicitly,  and  it  was  a  part  of  the  duty  of 
these  guardians  to  see  that  each  citizen  took  a  due  and 
proper  amount  of  physical  exercise  of  the  right  kind  with 
out  overdrawing  his  resources.     They  also  had  in  their 
keeping   the   ultimate    disposal   of   all    corpses   after   the 
funeral  rites  were  over  "for  the  greatest  good  of  the  com 
munity" — so  ran  the  law.     Some,  of  course,  went  to  the 
medical  schools  and  laboratories,  others  were  dismembered 
to  supply   organs  for  transplantation,    and   from   others 
certain  compounds  which  could  nowhere  else  be  quite  so 
successfully  made  were  extracted  from  different  organs  for 
various  scientific  and  commercial  uses.    Vivisection  experi 
ments  were  licensed  upon  all  forms  of  animal  life  and  occa 
sionally    upon    condemned    criminals    guilty    of    heinous 
crimes,  although  such  occasions  were  of  very  rare  occur 
rence.     There  were  also  bureaus  for  statistical  and  other 
studies  upon  the  various  conditions  that  could  be  controlled 
for  large  groups  of  the  community  in  the  interests  of  social 
hygiene.     Many  investigations,  too,  had  been  made  upon 
the  kind  and  amount  of  food  and  drink  determined  by  age, 
sex,     temperament,     alimentary     type,     and     occupation. 
Sanity  was  given  a  wide  range  and  was  individually  deter 
mined,  for  there  were  few  insane,  so  that  medical  juris 
prudence  had  not  had  occasion  to  lay  down  a  general  canon 
but,  recognizing  the  vast  diversity  of  symptoms  here,  made 
decisions  of  compos  mentis  only  after  careful  individual 
study  of  each  case.     These  wise  law-givers  desired  to  de- 


22         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

velop  a  wide  range  of  idiosyncrasies  and  the  utmost  license 
of  opinion  and  tolerance  of  very  manifold  creeds,  prac 
tices,  and  fashions  because  they  deemed  that  uniformity, 
monotony,  and  the  tyranny  of  custom  were  on  the  whole 
degenerative.  This,  in  general,  was  the  status,  and  these 
were  some  of  the  achievements  of  perhaps  the  most  impor 
tant  of  all  the  professions  at  the  most  exalted  point  of  its 
development  that  it  has  ever  reached  in  the  world. 

But  as  time  went  on,  individuals  and  then  communities 
became  lax  in  the  payment  of  their  health  insurance  rates. 
"Why,  they  said,  should  we  who  are  well  be  taxed  for  the 
benefit  of  those  who  are  ill?  Let  only  those  who  need 
physicians  support  them.  This  heresy,  despite  its  denun 
ciations  as  incipient  treason  to  the  state,  spread  apace. 
The  resources  of  the  guilds  gradually  fell  off  and  thus  its 
efficiency  decreased.  Others  resented  the  eugenic  control 
of  wedlock  and  broached  the  view  that  each  pair  should 
take  their  own  mating  into  their  own  hands.  Their  laws 
against  kissing,  which  required  that  this  must  always  be 
done  only  after  the  application  of  what  the  "  slanguage " 
of  popular  resentment  described  as  "smooch-paper,"  which 
instantly  recorded  in  different  colors  the  presence  of  all 
noxious  bacteria  or  kissing  bugs  in  the  mouth  or  throat 
somewhat  as  litmus  paper  now  records  the  presence  of  acid 
or  alkali,  were  popular  objects  of  ridicule.  Conscientious 
objectors  against  the  physical  examinations  which  had  to 
precede  marriage  arose.  Red  and  radical  resistance  was 
organized  in  secret  clubs  formed  here  and  there  which 
defied  the  curfew  laws  and  protested  the  individual  right 
to  turn  night  into  day.  Consumptives  insisted  that  they 
were  victims  of  circumstances  and  not  responsible  for  their 
malady  as  under  the  old  laws.  Objection,  too,  was  taken 
to  the  fact  that  physicians  kept  themselves  first  of  all  so 
well  that  most  of  them  had  never  had  any  experience  with 
any  form  of  illness  or  invalidism,  which  was  so  essential  for 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  23 

sympathy  with  the  sick.  Others  demanded  more  freedom 
to  dispose  of  their  dead  where  and  in  any  way  they  saw 
fit  not  detrimental  to  the  public  health.  Doctors,  strait 
ened  in  their  resources,  began  gradually  first  to  accept  and 
then  to  exact  fees  from  the  sick,  to  the  dismay  of  their 
more  conservative  colleagues  who  thought  that  it  was  as 
preposterous  and  demoralizing  to  sell  drugs  and  advice  as 
Plato  later  thought  it  was  for  the  sophists  to  sell  wisdom 
or  for  teachers  to  take  pay  for  imparting  knowledge.  As 
this  demoralization  advanced,  patent  medicines,  private 
hospitals  and  asylums  developed,  and  their  proprietors 
made  profits  out  of  the  misfortunes  and  disasters  of  the 
members  of  the  community  instead  of  as  before  from  their 
health  and  prosperity.  Thus,  as  unhygienic  conditions  in 
creased  and  preventative  activities  declined  and  diseases 
multiplied,  the  profession  grew  for  a  time  in  importance 
and  in  power  but  on  a  lower  plane,  for  cure  now  and  not 
superlative  condition  became  profitable.  It  was  indeed  not 
for  the  physician's  interest  to  cure  but  to  keep  his  patient 
ill,  and  if  he  could  not  do  that,  to  make  him  think  himself 
in  need  of  medical  service;  and  so  adepts  arose  in, the  art 
of  making  women  and  especially  adolescent  girls  and  boys 
imagine  that  normal  processes  were  alarming  symptoms. 
Thus  this  powerful  profession  which  had  been  the  corner 
stone  of  the  prosperity  of  the  state  lapsed  as  individual 
practitioners  now  came  to  sense  chiefly  their  own  private 
personal  interests.  The  people  as  a  whole  slowly  grew 
debilitated  or  nearly  all  fancied  themselves  to  be  more  or 
less  impaired.  Scores  of  crude  practices  and  superstitions 
arose,  and  there  were  also  proprietary  and  patent  medicines 
everywhere,  some  positively  noxious,  others  only  stimulants 
disguised  by  misleading  names,  and  still  others  entirely 
neutral,  which  came  to  be  thought  helpful,  while  some 
grew  superstitious  and  developed  senseless  phobias  of 
germs.  If  one  drank  an  innocent  glass  of  wine,  there  was 


24         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

fear  of  the  red  and  angry  drunkard's  stomach  now  some 
times  represented  in  our  school  textbooks  of  physiology. 
Those  rebels  who  restored  the  old  habit  of  smoking  were 
threatened  with  the  bogy  of  a  tobacco  heart.  If  one  drank 
from  a  country  spring  from  a  glass  not  his  own  or  at  the 
communion  table  of  the  goddess  Hygeia  without  his  in 
dividual  cup,  the  doctors  did  their  utmost  to  make  him  feel 
that  he  was  in  immediate  need  of  their  care.  The  dread  of 
infection  by  carriers  in  air,  water,  and  by  contact  was 
stimulated  to  the  utmost  degree  and  had  to  be  defied  by 
those  adventurous  souls  who  often  successfully  and  tri 
umphantly  violated  the  official  prescriptions  in  these 
regards. 

It  was  at  this  stage  that  the  physicians,  after  much  dis 
cussion,  standardized  their  fees,  although  for  this  no  rules 
proved  entirely  effective,  for  there  were  always  those  who 
exacted  exorbitant  fees  from  the  rich  and  refused  all  serv 
ices  to  the  poor  if  there  was  any  reason  to  doubt  their 
ability  to  pay.  It  was  at  this  period,  too,  that  excessive 
specialization  was  developed  and  physicians  arose  who 
treated  only  the  diseases  of  the  eye,  ear,  nose  and  throat, 
womb,  heart,  nerves,  stomach,  intestines,  and  did  so  quite 
regardless  of  the  condition  of  the  patient's  system  as  a 
whole,  while  general  medicine  declined  until  practitioners 
in  this  field  were  almost  unknown.  Thus  things  went  on 
for  generations,  and  the  decay  of  hygiene  brought  many 
other  evils  in  its  train  and  cooperated  in  subtle  ways  with 
degenerative  processes  that  were  also  going  on  in  other 
domains.  The  mortality  increased  fastest  among  the  poor 
because  infections  were  unchecked  and  the  rich  could  still 
pay  for  more  or  less  adequate  care.  The  expense,  too,  of 
having  a  baby  born  in  the  family  was  at  one  time  almost 
prohibitive  save  among  the  wealthy,  where  the  fewest,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  were  born.  Laws  were  passed  which  sought 
to  compel  all  to  summon  a  doctor  of  the  authorized  medical 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  25 

guild  upon  the  appearance  of  any  of  a  long  list  of  symp 
toms — laws  which  were  so  generally  resisted  that  the  more 
they  were  multiplied,  the  less  effective  they  became.  Mean 
while  the  doctors  themselves  grew  ever  more  arrogant,  op 
pressive,  and  often  extortionate,  and  the  profession  had 
become  so  attractive  that  its  numbers  had  greatly  increased 
until  there  was  one  to  every  sixty  of  the  population,  from 
whom  they  must  live. 

This  was  the  state  of  things  when  the  first  manifesta 
tions  of  the  great  revolt  appeared.  First  in  certain  city 
wards  populated  by  the  poor,  and  then  in  rural  communi 
ties,  the  movement  spread  and  was  organized.  There  were 
meetings,  private  and  even  public,  protests  and  finally  reso 
lutions  with  more  and  more  signatures,  pledging  each  signer 
to  use  every  means  to  evade  the  tyranny  of  the  medical 
guild.  At  the  same  time  there  came  a  great  recrudes 
cence  of  vulgar  or  popular  home-cures,  and  the  use  of 
herbs,  nostrums,  and  superstitious  practices  abounded. 
The  people  regarded  it  as  one  of  the  inalienable  rights  of 
man  to  take  flight  to  illness  occasionally  if  one  desired  to 
do  so,  and  even  to  die  unattended  by  the  minions  of  this 
prying  and  obnoxious  profession.  Hygienic  freedom  or 
death  was  a  many-voiced  cry.  There  were  broadsides, 
posters,  tracts,  pamphlets  galore,  uprisings,  raids,  windows 
of  doctors'  houses  were  broken  and  their  offices  looted,  and 
sabotage  of  much  of  the  armamentarium  of  medical  prac 
tice.  During  all  this  time  there  was,  of  course,  great  and 
growing  suffering  on  both  sides.  Many  doctors  abandoned 
their  vocation  and  sought  others.  Many  were  in  the  direst 
need  and  had  to  be  supported  by  the  contributions  of  their 
more  prosperous  guild  brethren,  but  even  these  were  grow 
ing  poorer,  for  the  rich  began  to  catch  the  infection  and 
realize  the  impositions  and  extortions  to  which  they  had 
been  subjected. 

Thus,  at  last  goaded  to  desperation,  the  entire  brother^ 


26    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

hood  of  Atlantean  physicians,  after  careful  deliberation, 
called  a  kohar,  which  is  the  equivalent  of  our  word 
"strike,"  hoping  thus  to  bring  the  people  to  their  senses 
and  to  a  realization  of  their  dependence.  Upon  a  given 
day  set  in  advance,  every  office,  every  medical  school  and 
hospital  was  closed.  Nurses  and  druggists  some  days  later 
joined  in  a  sympathetic  kohar.  No  words  can  describe  the 
horrors  and  suffering  that  ensued.  Patients  in  institutions 
were  left  to  die  or  to  be  removed  by  their  friends,  one 
epidemic  after  another  raged  unabated,  no  medicine  was 
available  save  such  therapeutic  plants  as  could  be  gathered 
from  the  fields  or  concocted  or  brewed  at  home.  Under 
takers  were  busy  and  their  guild  grew  and  prospered.  The 
well  cared  for  the  sick  in  a  neighborly  way,  and  thus  there 
was  a  great  increase  of  mutual  sympathy  and  aid,  especially 
at  first,  for  it  was  gradually  realized  that  on  the  whole  it 
was  the  less  fit  that  perished  and  the  best  that  survived. 
But  the  death  rate  slowly  declined  as  selective  agencies 
began  to  operate.  There  were  thus  compensations.  Some 
of  the  rich  realized  that  medical  attendance  was  a  luxury 
that  could  be  dispensed  with  in  many  cases,  and  there  were 
invalids  who  recovered  and  came  to  feel  that  they  had  been 
kept  ill  for  profit.  Mutual  help  in  illness  brought  people 
nearer  together  and  there  were  more  precautions,  and  the 
intelligent  public  sentiment  strongly  resisted  the  tendency 
to  lapse  toward  the  crude  methods  of  the  witch  doctors 
and  exorcisers.  Here  and  there  doctors  of  the  old  school 
still  surreptitiously  practiced  their  arts  and  there  were 
many  people  who  clandestinely  invoked  their  assistance  in 
emergencies,  despite  the  denunciation  of  them  by  public 
sentiment  as  helaks,  which  is  the  equivalent  of  our  "scab." 
It  was  a  long  and  tragic  story  of  boycott,  lockout,  injunc 
tion,  with  many  a  brawl,  raid,  and  sabotage,  for  neither 
party  would  yield,  and  as  the  net  result  of  all  this  age-long 
struggle  the  healing  art  was  almost  annihilated  in  Atlantis, 


THE  PALL  OF  ATLANTIS  27 

all  the  institutions  that  advanced  men's  knowledge  of  the 
human  frame  had  ceased  to  function,  while  the  health  and 
stamina  of  the  people  had  greatly  declined.  The  people 
ate,  drank,  married,  procreated,  went  filthy  or  clean  as  each 
wished.  They  applied  quarantine,  isolation,  inoculation 
against  infectious  diseases  or  not,  as  each  local  community 
decreed.  "Hygienic  freedom/*  "break  the  fetters  of  the 
tyrant,  sanitation,"  "real  health  is  happiness,"  "the 
good  old  cures  are  the  best,"  "individual  liberty  insures 
the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number," — such  were  the 
popular  slogans.  There  were  itinerant  healers  followed  by 
crowds  which  sometimes  trampled  on  each  other  for  a 
touch  or  look.  Fanatic  sects  even  denied  the  existence  of 
disease,  deeming  it  a  hallucination  of  the  carnal  mind  too 
encumbered  by  mortal  flesh.  Others  thought  prayer  or  the 
laying  on  of  hands  would  banish  bacteria  or  paralyze  them 
in  the  midst  of  their  destructive  work,  and  there  were 
miracle-working  fakirs  who  set  bones,  imparted  glame  or 
"neuricity"  from  nervous  systems  supercharged  with  it 
by  passes,  touching  sensitive  zones,  massage,  etc.,  for  those 
who  liked  it,  while  others  used  magic  unguents  and  even 
words  and  formulae.  Exercisers,  casters  of  horoscopes, 
water,  air,  colored-light  and  all  kind  of  electric  and  X-ray 
cures  and  tonics  abounded.  Swarthy  foreigners  from  the- 
ends  of  the  earth  brought  new  rites  or  nepenthes.  In  some 
localities  even  scatological  ceremonials  were  revived.  Pre- 
JSsculapian  serpent-worship  and  witch  broths,  various 
types  of  elixir  vitce,  panaceas,  plants  found  to  bear  the 
signatures  of  planets,  healing  lotions,  holy  shrines,  relics, 
amulets,  mascots,  charms  to  ward  off  the  evil  eye,  secret 
curses  of  enemies  which  could  bring  even  murrain  to  cattle 
and  mortal  pestilence  to  man — all  these  were  found,  some 
in  one,  some  in  other  provinces.  Many  turned  to  priests 
and  sorceresses  or  other  spiritual  guides  with  the  same 
faith  and  confessional  abandon  with  which  some  neurotic 


28    KECKEATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

modern  women  turn  to  their  physicians  as  sanctity  took 
the  place  of  sanitation  and  even  sanity,  and  thus  with  the 
decline  of  health  the  very  foundations  of  personal  and  civic 
morale  were  undermined  and  superstition  slowly  settled 
down  over  all  the  domain  once  so  highly  and  richly  culti 
vated  by  medical  science. 

Corresponding  with  this  gradual  age-long  decay  of  the 
arts  that  had  so  effectively  conserved  the  life  and  health 
of  Atlantis  came  similar  degenerative  processes  in  other 
fields,  to  the  next  of  which  we  now  turn. 

IV 
THE  TRIUMPH  AND  FALL  OF  JUSTICE 

IN  the  acme  of  her  power  Justice  with  all  her  institu 
tions  reigned  supreme  in  Atlantis.  There  was  a  kind  of 
Sanhedrin,  Areopagus,  or  academy,  election  to  which  body 
carried  with  it  the  most  honorific  of  all  titles,  or  degrees, 
viz.,  that  of  sage,  legislator,  or  sapri,  than  which  no  dis 
tinction  was  more  coveted.  This  body  made  all  laws  and 
at  intervals  codified  them.  From  this  final  compilation  as 
we  now  know  it,  it  is  very  apparent  that  the  stone  tables 
of  Moses  which  he  was  fabled  to  have  brought  down  from 
Sinai,  the  codes  of  Hammurabi,  Solon,  Lycurgus,  and  many 
other  antique  formulations  of  man's  duty  and  rights  were 
fragmentary  reminiscences  of  this  older  law,  and  from  this, 
doubtless,  came  also  the  suggestions  which  prompted  Plato 
to  write  his  Republic  and  Aristotle  his  Politics,  and  which 
was  in  a  psychogenetic  sense  the  source  of  so  many  ideal 
states  and  communities  with  which  we  are  familiar  but  are 
accustomed  to  treat  as  baseless  fancies  or  ideals  impossible 
of  realization.  These  all  now  seem  to  be  the  offspring  of 
vague  and  partial  memories  that  have  filtered  down  through 
the  ages  to  us,  not  so  much  by  tradition  as  by  unconscious 
inheritance  and  submerged  reminiscence  from  the  politics 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  29 

and  constitution  of  Atlantis.  Thus  it  is  that  the  vast 
domains  of  experience  of  man  and  also  of  his  far  back 
animal  progenitors,  when  obliterated  from  all  records  of 
the  race,  leave  as  their  most  permanent  and  last-to-be- 
effaced  trace  a  predisposition  of  the  imagination  to  repro 
duce  their  psychokinetic  equivalents  in  forms  thought  to 
be  original  creations,  just  as  the  engrains  of  the  great 
saurians  and  megatheria  of  the  Trias  age  inclined  the  mind 
of  man,  eons  after  they  were  extinct,  to  make  fables  of 
draconian  monsters  slain  by  culture-heroes  who  unified 
peoples  and  founded  states,  like  St.  George,  Siegfried, 
Perseus,  Beowulf,  because  man's  psyche  and  its  organ,  the 
brain,  now  inherit  all  the  marvelous  plasticity  once  shown 
best  of  all  in  the  morphological  plasticity  of  these  most 
polymorphic  lacertilian  forms,  or  finds  another  illustration 
in  our  altitude  psychoses  and  nightmares  of  hovering,  in 
which  we  see  reverberations  in  the  soul  of  the  piscine  and 
pelagic  life  of  our  aquatic  progenitors. 

The  cult  of  justice  in  the  palmiest  days  of  Atlantis,  with 
all  its  institutions,  courts,  judges,  law-schools,  etc.,  was 
based  on  the  prime  postulate  that  happiness  and  virtue, 
the  chief  of  which  was  justice,  and  also  on  the  other  hand 
wickedness,  the  chief  form  of  which  was  selfishness,  and 
pain  belong  together  and  that  they  must  be  made  to  coin 
cide  in  this  world  and  not  wait  for  their  equation  upon 
another  life.  Laws  that  should  be  "written  reason,"  and 
in  obedience  to  which  alone  man  could  find  complete  free 
dom,  must  be  so  drawn  and  so  executed  that  each  individual 
promptly  gets  his  deserts,  whether  good  or  evil. 

Again,  one  function  of  lawyers  which  was  designated  by 
the  term  humor  tra/vi,  which  I  translate  as  "the  apostolate 
of  the  dead, ' '  was  to  pronounce  judgment  upon  every  life, 
whether  that  of  pauper  or  king,  at  its  close.  In  other 
words,  they  must  assess  its  net  result  in  profit  and  loss  for  | 
the  community.  Thus  the  moral  of  each  individual  career 


30    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  drawn  for  the  encouragement  or  warning  of  survivors. 
The  problems  which  each  faced,  the  secret  acts  of  self- 
sacrifice,  indulgences  of  greed  or  vice — all  were  explored 
and  brought  to  light  with  clinical  thoroughness  and  im 
partiality.  What  were  the  chief  temptations  of  each  re 
sisted  or  yielded  to,  the  good  resolutions  kept  or  broken, 
the  weakness  or  strength,  service  or  disservice, — all  these 
were  exposed  and  given  their  true  meed  of  praise  or  blame, 
with  a  kind  of  Rhadamanthian  judgment-day  impartiality. 
Thus  everybody  could  look  forward  to  his  own  "  death 
forum"  and  so  regulate  his  life  that  his  surviving  friends 
would  not  execrate  but  cherish  his  memory  with  pride. 
Despite  all  this,  however,  it  of  course  sometimes  happened 
that  estimates  of  character  were  reversed  in  this  forum 
and  those  thought  most  desirable  citizens  were  revealed  as 
craven,  hypocritical,  and  false-hearted,  and  perhaps  even 
those  that  suffered  social  reprobation  were  shown  forth  as 
paragons  of  social  and  civil  virtue. 

In  economic  life  in  the  golden,  sometimes  called  the 
Saturnian  age,  all  wealth  was  an  expression  and  a  measure 
of  service  and  was  prized  by  its  possessor  and  respected  by 
others  solely  as  such  and  not  for  any  intrinsic  worth  of  its 
own  or  for  what  it  could  buy.  In  fact,  the  term  for  both 
money  and  wealth,  sema-ciir,  meant  "service  measure 
ment."  It  was  dishonorable  to  possess  a  minu  (nearly 
equivalent  to  our  dollar)  that  was  not  earned  or  bought 
and  paid  for  by  service.  Thus  it  was  that  the  bad  citizen 
was  poor  and  the  good  rich.  To  be  proved  to  possess  a 
tainted  minu  or  sema-cur  was  disloyalty  to  society  and  was 
punished  by  confiscation  of  twentyfold  by  the  state. 
Enterprise  consisted  in  finding  new  kinds  of  service  or 
extending  old  ones.  The  more  essential  the  undertaking, 
the  greater  became  each  man's  service-wealth.  All  great 
corporations  were  cooperative  and  animated  by  the  same 
ideals.  If,  as  happened  here  and  there,  degenerates  be- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  31 

• 

came  animated  by  get-rich  motives,  the  courts  investigated, 
and  if  they  found  this  to  be  the  case,  they  pronounced  the 
culprit  "  undesirable "  and  left  him  to  the  condemnation 
of  his  conscience  and  to  the  outlawry  of  his  fellow-men. 
He  was,  however,  often  allowed  to  keep  his  wealth  and  thus 
to  become  an  object-lesson  to  the  community  that  those 
who  amassed  riches,  however  great,  by  unworthy  means 
were  not  respected  but  contemptible.  Plato  and  the  Stoics 
later  taught  that  the  tyrant  who  was  bad,  selfish,  and  mean, 
even  though  rich,  thought  great  and  good,  and  overwhelmed 
with  honors,  was  in  his  secret  heart  miserable;  while  the 
man  with  a  mens  conscia  siU  recti  or  an  approving  con 
science,  although  thought  wicked,  despised,  persecuted,  and 
even  martyred,  was  in  his  inmost  heart  happy  and  trium 
phant.  On  the  same  principle  an  Atlantean  diplomated 
"undesirable"  nearly  always,  sooner  or  later,  came  to 
realize  his  unworthiness  and  found  surcease  from  his  self- 
condemnation  by  voluntarily  pauperizing  himself  and 
starting  over  again  by  way  of  civic  regeneration  and  atone 
ment,  and  thus  found  sources  of  a  new  and  deep  satisfac 
tion  which  had  been  concealed  to  him  before. 

Nearly  all  forms  of  what  we  call  crime  existed  but  were 
very  rare.  Punishments  were,  so  far  as  possible,  made  to 
fit  the  crime.  Fraud  was  punished  by  a  tenfold  restitution. 
One  who  violated  his  oath  was,  if  this  habit  was  proved 
chronic,  branded  and  tattoed  on  either  cheek  with  the 
letter  "G"  for  gumd,  or  liar.  Murderers  were  put  to 
death  by  the  same  method  they  had  used  upon  their  vic 
tims  carefully  elaborated,  and  the  same  method  was  used 
for  every  kind  of  mayhem  on  the  eye-f or-eye,  tooth-f or-tooth 
principle.  Those  who  became  victims  of  overweaning 
pride  were  subjected  to  a  curriculum  of  indignities  and 
humiliations.  Many  methods  of  correcting  faulty  disposi 
tions,  far  excelling  in  ingenuity  although  instinct  with  the 
same  spirit  which  animates  many  of  our  college  fraternity 


32         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

and  secret-society  initiations  in  their  often  drastic  and 
cruel  mental  and  even  physical  pains,  were  evolved,  always 
with  a  correspondence  between  the  fault  and  the  cure,  that 
outdid  Dante's  Infernal  and  Purgatorial  methods.  Thus 
the  tender  were  toughened;  the  boorish  made  mannerly; 
the  opinionated,  dogmatic,  and  self-complacent  made  do 
cile;  the  cranky  given  the  spirit  of  teamwork  and  com 
promise;  the  egoist  taught  that  there  were  other  men  and 
minds;  the  feeble  and  dependent  were  given  more  oak  and 
iron  in  their  composition,  etc.  Those  it  was  found  neces 
sary  to  isolate  for  a  season  were  treated  with  a  view  to 
their  reformation,  for  such  and  all  sentences  were  not  vin 
dictive  but  curative  in  their  aim.  These  moral  hospitals 
for  weak  and  perverted  wills  had  each  a  corps  of  experts 
who  prescribed  a  distinct  regimen  for  each  patient,  rang 
ing  all  the  way  from  the  severest  physical  castigation  to 
the  gentlest  persuasion,  for  besides  the  determination  of 
the  temibility  point  of  each  inmate,  which  decided  the  ex 
tremes  of  the  drasticness  of  treatment  for  those  nearest  the 
line  of  incorrigibility,  it  was  the  good  motivations  latent  or 
possible  in  each  that  were  chiefly  appealed  to.  For  the 
very  few  cases  that  resisted  all  treatment  and  for  whom 
all  hope  of  ultimate  restoration  to  society  it  began  to  seem 
necessary  to  abandon,  first  castration,  and,  as  a  last  resort, 
death  was  prescribed,  for  it  was  thought  better  that  one 
member  of  the  body  politic,  civic,  or  industrial,  should 
perish  than  that  the  whole  be  corrupted.  Emasculation 
was  also  sometimes  resorted  to  for  seducers,  for  all  those 
who  violated  the  spirit  that  in  our  day  has  made  the  Mann 
law,  also  for  the  lascivious  and  adulterers  even  if  they 
were  not  diseased,  and  a  corresponding  operation  was  re 
sorted  to  in  emergencies  for  depraved  and  vampire  women. 
In  the  great  schools  of  law  the  spirit  of  justice,  honor, 
and  equity  was  inculcated,  and  all  students  took  a  solemn 
oath  to  be  always  and  everywhere  upholders  of  these  prin- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  33 

ciples  and  to  be  guardians  of  the  spirit  and  the  letter  of 
the  Atlantean  constitution.  Ethics  was  the  basal  study, 
and  to  these  faculties  drafts  of  each  new  law  proposed  were 
submitted  to  see  if  it  conformed  to  the  supreme  principles 
of  virtue  between  man  and  man.  Whether  the  passion  of 
the  Hebrew  prophets  for  righteousness  was  the  survival  of 
a  dim  tradition  of  Atlantis  or  a  spontaneous  recrudescence 
of  the  same  principle  under  another  racial  dispensation,  we» 
have  so  far  not  been  able  to  determine,  but  there  is  at  least 
many  a  striking  similitude  between  the  two.  Another 
function  of  these  schools  was  to  collect  and  compare  model 
charters  for  cities,  states,  corporations,  and  other  institu 
tions  and  organizations  of  all  kinds  which  serve  the  public 
welfare,  to  select  and  advise  all  movements  seeking  to  in 
stitute  themselves  of  the  most  effective  and  successfully 
tried-out  methods,  and  finally  also  to  warn  against  those 
methods  which  experience  had  proved  faulty  and  ineffec 
tive.  Here,  too,  was  to  be  found  a  collection  of  all  the  con 
stitutions  of  all  the  states  that  had  existed  from  the  begin 
ning  of  the  Atlantean  cycle  of  history  which  culminated 
in  the  evolution  of  this  great  commonwealth,  whether  demo 
cratic,  oligarchical,  monarchical,  or  syndical,  etc.,  and  the 
perpetual  problem  of  the  savants  who  investigated  and 
taught  in  this  department  was  to  work  out  in  ever  greater 
perfection  ways  that  conserved  most  of  the  merits  and 
avoided  most  of  the  defects  of  them  all,  for  the  best  state 
was  that  which  most  exactly  fitted  the  nature  and  best 
satisfied  all  the  legitimate  needs  of  man. 

Government  was  thus  an  art,  a  science,  and  a  profession. 
All  the  many  colonies  of  Atlantis  were  administered  for 
their  own  good,  for  it  was  well  realized  that  their  pros 
perity  and  that  of  the  central  state  were  one  and  insep 
arable.  The  status  of  every  race  under  this  wide  jurisdic 
tion  was  carefully  studied,  and  pioneers  for  the  mother 
state  were  always  teachers  and  anthropologists.  There  was 


34=    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

thus  no  antagonism  to  indigenous  beliefs  and  customs,  and 
those  less  civilized  were  not  brought  to  shame  in  the  pres 
ence  of  those  more  so,  but  rather  strove  to  emulate  them. 
Absurd  beliefs  and  deleterious  customs  were  thus  left  to 
die  slowly  of  neglect  and  inanition  as  more  and  better  ideas 
and  practices  supervened.  Thus  all  primitive  cults  and 
religions  that  had  contained  in  them  higher  possibilities, 
as  indeed  nearly  all  did,  were  carefully  conserved  and 
slowly  refined  by  suggestion,  for  it  was  seen  that  every 
faith  and  rite,  however  crude,  had  in  it  the  germs  of  the 
highest.  This  was  as  if  we  in  our  day  should  see  and  say 
that  Jesus  gave  us  only  an  example  of  how  one  old  and 
once  grand,  but  then  decadent,  faith  could  be  made  to 
blossom  into  a  new  and  better  one,  and  that  by  a  similar 
method  any  of  the  sons  of  men  who  to-day  had  the  capacity 
thus  to  incubate  any  one  of  the  great  faiths  or  the  more 
or  less  systematized  superstitions  of  even  the  lowest  races 
could  make  stand  forth  revealed  all  that  lay  con 
cealed  in  them.  The  products  of  these  various  incubations 
and  palingeneses  would  differ  much  in  form  from  Chris 
tianity  but  would  agree  with  it  in  the  chief  essential  of  all 
religions  that  man's  prime  function  is  to  serve  man  and 
God,  who  is  only  Mansoul  personified.  In  this  spirit  the 
Atlantean  masters  and  doctors  of  law  sought  in  their 
colonial  policy  never  to  eradicate  but  only  to  develop  and 
perfect  the  religious  and  cultural  tendencies  implicit  in 
the  hearts  and  souls  of  the  members  of  all  their  colonial 
dependencies,  a  policy  that  always  and  everywhere  justifies 
itself. 

The  elements  of  the  laws  and  of  morality  were  taught 
in  every  school,  and  with  the  highest  morale,  which  con 
sists  in  closing  the  chasm  between  knowing  and  doing; 
knowledge  that  did  not  issue  in  virtue  was  thought  to  be 
an  evil  and  not  a  good.  In  the  universities  the  nature  of 
man  was  the  culminating  study,  and  so  to  organize  the 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  35 

good  and  the  true  within  that  each  individual  should  be  a 
self -controlled  whole  or  unity  was  the  goal,  for  the  best 
preparation  for  ruling  others  is  to  know  how  to  rule  one 
self.  Such  was  the  ethical-legal  state  of  Atlantis  at  its 
best. 

But  as  wealth  accumulated,  men  tended,  as  they  always 
do,  to  decay.  The  yeoman  citizenry  had  long  owned  and 
tilled  each  his  own  spot  of  dear  old  Mother  Earth  and  had 
felt  the  inspiration  of  standing  in  the  center  of  his  own 
homestead,  however  small,  and  realizing  that  everything 
comprised  within  its  circle,  however  narrow,  from  zenith 
to  nadir  was  his  own.  But  now  and  then,  here  and  there, 
precious  stones,  coal  or  metals  were  found,  some  land  was 
rich  and  some  poor,  and  it  was  perhaps  this  fact  that 
marked  the  beginning  of  the  degeneration  of  the  sense  of 
justice  and  all  the  evils  that  always  trek  in  its  train.  As 
some  grew  rich  their  neighbors  grew  jealous.  The  fortu 
nate  said  their  finds  rendered  a  real  service,  while  others 
accused  them  of  monopolizing  the  natural  resources  which 
belonged  to  all,  and  the  profits  of  which  they  had  not  really 
earned,  and  it  was  in  this  controversy,  after  the  old  methods 
of  adjustment  and  arbitration  had  failed,  that  each  side  to 
the  dispute  found  administrators  of  justice,  who  had 
hitherto  been  officials  of  the  state  and  paid  only  from  the 
public  coffers,  becoming  advocates  representing  opposing 
views  and  claims  and  each  receiving  private  fees,  to  the 
great  scandal  of  their  colleagues.  From  such  beginnings 
it  was  that  the  first  civil  courts,  which  were  those  of  claims, 
arose.  Before  this  all  lawyers  had  been  essentially  judges 
gathering  evidence  as  best  they  could  personally,  or  by 
agents  directly  from  the  parties  interested,  but  now  they 
found  it  convenient  to  hear  the  pros  and  cons  set  forth  by. 
agents  on  each  side  employed  by  the  litigants,  disreputable 
as  these  new  sophisters  of  legality  were  in  their  efforts 
often  to  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason.  For 


36         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

several  centuries  Atlantis  had  a  period  of  unprecedented 
material  prosperity,  and  new  sources  of  wealth  were  opened 
at  home  and  in  all  her  wide-flung  dependencies.  But  it 
was  found  impossible  to  keep  this  new  wealth  distributed 
according  to  the  old  principles  of  merit  and  service,  so 
that  with  increasing  litigation,  venality  grew  apace  and 
advocates  multiplied  and  came  to  replace  the  older  repre 
sentatives  of  the  law  who  were  intent  only  upon  justice. 
So  numerous  did  these  meyhus,  or  shysters  become  that 
many  of  them,  in  order  to  live,  had  to  resort  to  methods  of 
ferreting  out  possible  cases  and  inciting  contented  people 
to  engage  in  lawsuits  to  enforce  fancied  and  even  fictitious 
rights  or  to  repel  no  less  fancied  wrongs.  Thus  misunder 
standings,  enmity,  envy,  and  suspicion  often  arose  where 
formerly  peace  and  tranquillity  had  reigned.  Hence,  too, 
it  slowly  came  to  pass  that  any  man  in  any  way  conspicu 
ous,  whether  for  merit  or  for  wealth,  had  always  to  employ 
defenders  against  attack  either  upon  his  good  name  or 
upon  his  possessions,  and  to  safeguard  his  fiduciary  inter 
ests  as  these  developed  in  range  and  importance. 

As  time  went  on,  things  grew  worse  and  it  was  found 
necessary  to  enact  new  laws,  for  many  of  the  older,  simpler, 
sterner  ones  were  found  inconvenient  and  either  lapsed  or 
were  abolished.  Thus  new  legislative  leaders,  many  of 
whom  had  had  no  training  but  who  called  themselves 
tribunes  of  the  people,  were  convened  in  a  central,  and  in 
many  local  parliaments.  These  members  were  elected  from 
every  walk  of  life,  and  a  new  type  of  special  law-giving 
was  developed  beside  the  older  one,  thus  slowly  superseding 
the  old  faculties  and  the  central  academy  of  justice. 
Nearly  all  of  their  work  was  emergency  legislation,  and 
each  member  of  these  new  bodies  served  only  the  interests 
of  the  constituents  whose  mouthpiece  he  was.  Hence  the 
body  of  laws  was  enormously  multiplied  far  beyond  the 
possibility  of  codification,  and  thus,  too,  precedents  for 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  37 

judicial  decisions  could  be  found  for  almost  anything  that 
any  litigant  sought.  No  one  could  begin  to  survey  the 
entire  field,  and  so  experts  and  specialists  of  manifold  kinds 
arose  who  knew  little  of  the  enactments  passed  in  any  other 
field  than  their  own.  Of  old,  parties  were  unknown  save 
that  men  naturally  fall  into  conservative  or  progressive 
groups  according  to  their  temperaments.  But  now  par 
tisanship  often  eclipsed  patriotism,  and  the  very  word 
politician  became  opprobrious.  All  questions  were  treated 
with  a  view  to  their  value  as  capital  for  partisan  success, 
and  as  public  patronage  grew  in  volume  and  public  officials 
increased  in  numbers,  there  were  ever  more  bickerings 
between  the  "ins"  and  the  "outs"  who  hoped  to  attain 
access  to  the  public  crib.  This  made  true  statesmanship 
something  that  was  only  traditional  and  no  longer  possible. 
The  major  elections  kept  all  enterprises  unsettled  half  the 
time.  Platforms  full  of  fine  phrases  and  high-sounding 
platitudes  were  promulgated  that  abounded  in  pledges 
which  were  soon  forgotten  and  never  even  meant  to  be 
fulfilled,  and  manipulators  of  public  opinion  developed 
who  were  clever  enough  to  do  what  our  democracy  thinks 
impossible,  viz.,  to  fool  all  the  people,  everywhere,  and  all 
the  time.  Kales  of  procedures  were  so  elaborated  that 
clever  parliamentarians  could  by  their  aid  often  throttle 
the  will  of  the  majority,  and  there  were  even  filibusters 
who  could  at  any  time  call  a  halt  on  all  procedure.  Many 
law-givers  were  in  close  rapport  with  financial  centers  that 
profited  by  their  secret  confidences,  and  many  held  large 
retainers  from  their  clients  or  sold  secrets  to  speculators. 
Lobbies  arose  that  were  more  numerous,  more  astute,  and 
better  paid  than  their  victims,  and  the  latter  were  often 
even  led  to  betray  the  very  causes  they  were  chosen  to 
serve.  Thus  the  fountains  of  justice  became  corrupt  at 
their  source  and  could  give  forth  only  muddy  waters  to 
those  below. 


38         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

Vain  were  protests  or  petitions,  especially  where  great 
interests  were  involved,  as  also  were  for  a  long  time  all 
efforts  and  plans  of  any  kind  of  initiative,  referendum,  or 
recall,  for  in  exact  proportion  to  the  length  of  term  for 
which  these  servants  of  the  people  were  chosen  did  they 
declare  their  independence  of  their  constituents  and  arro 
gate  judgment  and  authority  to  themselves. 

It  is  hard  to  say  from  the  records  whether  the  infection 
of  corruption  spread  fastest  downward  or  upward.  Cer 
tain  it  is  that  lower  and  local  civil  bodies,  also  themselves 
with  ever  growing  power  and  patronage,  were  composed  of 
bosses  and  henchmen  chiefly  intent  upon  plunder,  which 
generally  came  in  the  form  of  franchises,  contracts,  and 
concessions.  No  private  business  could  have  survived  such 
mismanagement  a  year,  and  the  ever-increasing  taxes  on 
everything  made  all  governmental  corporations  rich  beyond 
all  precedent  and  therefore  no  less  wasteful.  Extortion, 
too,  was  everywhere  rife.  The  police  levied  surreptitious 
rates  or  margins  not  only  on  crime  and  vice,  which  they 
too  often  protected  instead  of  repressed,  but  also  upon 
many  an  honest  citizen  and  enterprise.  If  such  perquisites 
were  for  any  reason  reduced,  officials  of  all  degrees,  govern 
ment  clerks,  firemen,  policemen,  transportation  agents,  and 
all  the  rest  could  always  and  everywhere  have  recourse  to 
a  strike  and  thus  bring  the  long-suffering  public  to  their 
terms.  Capital  and  labor  were  long  at  angry  odds,  and 
their  conflicts  enormously  reduced  the  industrial  efficiency 
of  the  country.  All  processes  became  so  specialized  that 
no  workman  knew  more  than  a  single  brief  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  production  of  the  object  upon  which  he  was 
engaged.  Moreover,  he  was  often  obliged  to  live  the  whole 
course  of  his  active  life  without  adequate  satisfaction  of 
the  primal  needs  of  man,  such  as  sufficient  food,  shelter, 
heat,  clothes,  family  life,  recreation,  and  so  very  commonly 
took  refuge  from  his  conscious  and  unconscious  worries  in 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  39 

drink,  laws  against  which  abounded  but  could  no  longer 
be  enforced. 

There  were  many  symptoms  that  anticipated  the  great 
revolt.  First,  in  several  remote  rural  localities,  communi 
ties  were  formed  of  families  who  undertook  to  make  and 
administer  their  own  laws.  Some  of  these  were  composed 
of  intelligent  and  cultivated  men  and  women  who  longed 
to  lead  the  simple  life  close  to  nature,  feeling  that  urban 
life  had  grown  too  intricate  and  burdensome  to  be  longer 
endured.  A  few  were  made  up  of  what  we  should  call 
religious  fanatics.  Others  were  dreamers  of  a  new  dis 
pensation  of  civilization,  etc.  As  these  settlements  were 
small,  few,  and  far,  they  at  first  attracted  little  attention 
as  they  all  recognized  Csesar  by  paying  their  due  tribute  to 
him.  They  were  open  to  all  save  lawyers,  who  were  barred 
and  banned.  But  rumor  spread  and  exaggerated  the 
charm  of  these  modes  of  life.  Visitors  came  and  pro 
nounced  it  good.  Thus  slowly  a  great  new  ideal  arose  and 
spread.  "Let  us,"  said  the  heralds  of  this  ideal,  "reor 
ganize  our  institutions  from  the  bottom  up.  Let  us  again 
think  and  speak  of  man 's  duties  and  not  solely  of  his  rights. 
This  was  the  principle  upon  which  the  Atlantean  state 
grew  great  at  first,  and  to  this  we  will  hark  back.  The  laws 
now,'*  they  said,  "have  come  well-nigh  to  destroying  all 
liberty.  They  regulate  our  lives  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave — marriage,  homes,  children,  food,  drink,  sleep,  en 
joyments,  enterprise,  traffic,  etc.,  while  every  crop,  domes 
tic  animal,  vehicle,  fare,  ticket,  article  of  dress  or  furniture, 
as  well  as  everything  found  on  the  table,  bin,  or  cellar,  is 
taxed  directly  or  indirectly,  and  prying,  spying  officials 
dog  us  in  all  that  is  done  in  kitchen,  laundry,  yard,  bed 
room,  or  street.  They  ferret  out  our  incomes  and  expendi 
ture,  investigate  our  clubs  and  societies,  report  our  utter 
ances  if  they  show  any  impatience  at  the  state  of  things  as 
they  are." 


40         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

So,  at  length,  first  secret,  then  open  groups  were  formed 
pledging  their  members  either  not  to  elect  lawyers  to  any 
body  that  made  laws  or  ordinances  or  not  to  employ  attor 
neys  or  not  to  go  to  court  but  to  arbitrate  all  differences, 
and  sometimes  individuals  and  even  groups  here  and  there 
agreed  to  defy  certain  laws  of  the  more  obnoxious  type  that 
infringed  most  seriously  upon  personal  liberty  or  invaded 
human  rights  deemed  inalienable.  As  this  movement  grew, 
many  lawyers  had  to  find  new  fields  of  activity  as  their 
resources  were  impaired.  Others  remonstrated  and  legis 
lated  voluminously  against  these  recusant  types,  but  to  so 
little  effect  that  these  enactments  ere  long  fell  into  dis 
repute.  The  revenues  of  this  guild  fell  off,  and  many 
turned  to  other  vocations  as  the  medicos  had  just  before 
been  similarly  stampeded. 

As  the  last  act  of  this  drama,  the  legal  body,  goaded  to 
'desperation,  also  decreed  a  kohar  or  strike,  and  thus  at  a 
given  date  all  schools  of  law,  courts,  offices,  and  legislative 
bodies  closed,  and  all  patrollers  of  the  streets  and  detec 
tives  ceased  to  function.  Then,  again,  there  was  indeed 
acute  distress.  There  were  mobs,  sabotage,  looting  in  the 
street  by  night,  and  a  large  element  of  the  population  took 
delight  in  defying  all  the  old  restrictions  and  giving  them 
selves  up  for  a  time  to  an  orgy  of  riot  and  dissipation. 
There  were  often  disturbances  that  the  soldier  guild  had 
to  be  invoked  to  suppress.  Colonies  once  never  taxed  with 
out  representation  were  now  levied  on  against  their  will, 
and  revolted.  Publicans  once  honest  and  respected  became 
corrupt  and  hated.  The  press,  once  an  endowed,  impartial, 
and  fearless  oracle  of  public  thought,  fell  under  the  control 
of  advertisers  and  thus  lost  its  freedom.  One  section  of  it 
became  reptilian,  venal,  and  subservient  to  the  interests  of 
its  secret  owners  or  those  who  bought  its  support.  Some 
•widely  circulated  journals  sank  to  mere  scandalmonger  ing 
and  even  blackmail;  others  catered  to  pestilent  and  trucu- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  41 

lent  bilge-water  elements  in  society  whom  they  thrilled  and 
unsettled.  Men  prominent  for  service  or  wealth  had  often 
to  employ  "sluggers"  to  protect  their  person,  and  guard 
ians  facile  with  their  tongues  and  pens  to  protect  them 
against  defamation. 

Everywhere  there  had  been  over-regimentation.  Seats 
of  learning  as  well  as  each  profession  or  calling  had  tomes 
of  statutes  or  ordinances,  sometimes  elaborately  canonized, 
and  were  always  in  danger  of  being  enmeshed  in  red  tape 
or  held  up  by  antique  precedents,  for,  as  to-day,  the  passion 
for  over-organization  was  greatest  where  there  was  least 
definiteness  of  purpose  and  least  to  organize;  there  was 
most  regulation  where  there  was  least  to  regulate,  and  most 
circumlocutory  functions  where  there  was  least  to  be 
accomplished. 

Thus,  with  the  fall  of  the  Nortws  and  Ethos,  the  mores 
also  declined.  With  the  closing  of  all  penal  institutions 
and  the  abolition  of  all  punishments  every  species  of  crime 
and  vice  so  abounded  that  for  years  society  seemed  lapsing 
toward  the  state  of  Hobbesian  war  of  all  against  all,  and 
every  man's  hand  seemed  against  that  of  every  other. 
Neither  life,  limb,  property,  nor  reputation  was  safe.  Se 
duction,  rape,  burglary,  theft  so  increased  that  a  reign  of 
terror  unprecedented  in  our  era  seemed  imminent  and  a 
debacle  of  civilization  itself  at  hand,  as  if  man  was  not  after 
all  by  nature  a  political  animal,  as  our  Aristotle  has  said, 
but  a  savage  brute  with  whom  the  only  law  is  that  of  the 
jungle  where  might  makes  right.  Debauchery  stalked  the 
streets  flagrant  and  unabashed.  "  Because  we  die  to-mor 
row  and  the  state  and  all  future  hope  for  man  is  dimmed, 
let  us  be  merry  and  seize  every  pleasure  while  we  can 
to-day, ' '  was  the  cry  sometimes  heard  but  oftener  lived  by. 

But  amidst  all  this  chaos  there  was  a  saving  remnant  that 
would  not  accept  the  grim  logic  of  despair.  Though  all 
seemed  lost,  their  wills  were  still  unconquerable  and  they 


42         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

determined  to  meet  fire  with  fire.  As  their  first  and  mild 
est  tentative  step  they  revived  and  placarded  certain  old 
precepts :  ' '  Do  nothing  to  others  you  would  not  have  them 
do  to  you,"  a  saw  which  survived  in  the  negative  golden 
rule  of  Confucius ;  ' '  Make  the  motives  of  thy  conduct  such 
that  they  could  be  maxims  of  the  conduct  of  everybody," 
somewhat  as  our  Kant  later  said:  "Be  honest  and  keep 
yourself  pure;"  "Walk  humbly  and  be  content;"  "There 
remains  always  the  simple  life,  which  is  after  all  the  best ; ' ' 
"Avoid  luxury  which  corrodes  the  heart;"  "Be  and  keep 
always  at  your  best;"  "In  doubt  always  find  the  higher, 
better  way;"  "Think  twice;"  "Be  mindful  of  posterity;" 
"Seek  always  justice  above  all  riches  but  practice  mercy;" 
etc.  Fortunately  in  such  expressions  of  primal  moral  wis 
dom  the  folklore  of  Atlantis  was  rich,  and  the  best  proverbs 
and  apologues  often  represented  in  a  phrase  the  choicest 
results  of  ages  and  experience. 

Ineffective  as  this  placard  and  poster  method  seemed, 
it  was  a  good  beginning.  But  these  wise  men  among 
fools  also  set  to  work  systematically  to  compile,  compare, 
and  apply  all  ancient  codes  and  tables  of  law  and 
.ethical  systems,  which  were  promulgated  and  diffused  to 
show  again  the  foundations  upon  which  not  only  the 
Atlantean  but  all  preceding  civilizations  had  been  built. 
Thus,  canons  of  the  primal  rights  and  duties  of  man  were 
conflated  as  books  "in  the  bible  of  conduct."  But  all  this 
was  the  least  of  this  great  effort  to  stem  the  tide  of  de 
cay.  Actively  to  combat  present  evils  secret  committees 
of  vigilantes  were  formed,  which  occasionally  marked  out 
individuals  for  condign  punishment,  or  even  planned  mys 
terious  executions  for  the  most  dangerous  enemies  of  so 
ciety  and  of  virtue.  There  were  law  and  order  clubs. 
Codes  and  courts  of  honor  were  prescribed  for  workmen, 
employers,  and  for  men  of  large  and  small  affairs,  to  which 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  4& 

many  subscribed  and  from  whom,  if  they  refused  to  do  so, 
those  still  loyal  to  the  right  withheld  patronage  and  sup 
port.  Corps  of  volunteers  taught  and  wrought  for  social 
betterment  in  streets,  shops,  alleys,  and  home.  As  these 
"true  citizens "  (for  thus  they  were  called)  organized  and 
cooperated,  a  state  council  was  formed  of  delegates  which 
promulgated,  not  laws  enforced  by  tribunals  but  sugges 
tions  with  no  mandatory  force  but  appealing  solely  to  con 
science  and  public  spirit.  Thus,  slowly  and  faintly  at  first 
a  new  hope  arose,  for  this  movement  had  the  incalculable 
advantage  that  it  was  after  all  only  a  revival  of  the  spirit 
of  Atlantis  in  her  prime  as  against  the  later  superfetation 
of  legislation  and  administration  of  laws  that  strangled  the 
spirit  by  the  letter.  Thus,  in  the  last  chapter  of  the  his 
tory  of  this  guild  regenerative  forces  seemed  gaining 
ground  over  the  moral,  civic,  and  economic  anarchy  pre 
cipitated  by  the  revolt  of  the  legal  guild.  But  other  causes 
of  decay  in  other  domains  cooperated  to  bring  the  end,  and 
no  one  can  conjecture  the  fate  of  this  splendid  beginning  of 
reconstruction  here.  This  "savior  party,"  as  it  was  called, 
was  strongly  agrarian  and  sought  by  every  means  to  de-> 
urbanize  the  population,  and  their  ideal  was  that  every 
family  should  own  and  till  some  tract  of  land,  however 
small  the  plot  of  each.  They  also  agreed  in  holding  that 
all  wealth  and  prosperity  comes  from  labor,  either  of  the 
head  or  of  the  hand,  and  that  all  those  able  should  do  some 
of  both  kinds  of  work  daily.  They  deprecated  and  re 
stricted  the  great  and  growing  number  of  holidays,  held 
that  all  great  enterprises  might  be  cooperative,  and  were 
bitter  against  both  inherited  and  predatory  wealth.  All 
deprecated  war,  but  accepted  it  as  a  sometimes  necessary 
evil  for  which  they  must  always  be  prepared. 

But  in  about  all  other  things  as  these  reformers  gained 
influence  and  power,  they  differed,  often  so  radically  and 


44         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

irreconcilably  that  at  the  very  last  it  seemed  uncertain 
whether  they  could  maintain  the  unity  necessary  to  stem 
the  tide  of  evils.  We  should  call  them  socialists,  and  then 
as  well  as  now  there  were  nearly  as  many  minds  as  men,  or 
at  least  types  or  dispositions  of  men.  Some  would  achieve 
their  goal  by  evolution ;  others  by  revolution.  Some  would 
overturn  society  and  bring  up  the  proletariat  to  supreme 
power  and  humble  all  the  rich,  great,  and  powerful ;  while 
others  would  eschew  any  program  of  vengeance  for  the  past 
and  simply  start  afresh.  Some  insisted  that  all  were  equal, 
and  others  recognized  the  vast  native  differences  of  gifts 
and  would  reward  all  according  to  service.  Some  favored, 
but  most  opposed,  the  development  of  any  leisure  class. 
There  were  pro-  and  anti-paternalists.  Some  would  aggre 
gate  industries  in  guild  towns,  while  others  advocated  a 
dispersive  policy.  Some  desired  to  abolish  all  factory  sys 
tems  and  rely  upon  home  industries  wherever  possible,  while 
others  evolved  diverse  systems  of  reform,  and  there  were 
countless  panaceas.  Some  held  the  right  to  strike  inalien 
able,  and  others  would  restrict  it.  Some  feared  great  syn 
dicates,  and  others  believed  in  state  ownership.  So  violent 
and  sometimes  disruptive  were  the  wrangles  between  those 
who  held  opposite  views  that  at  the  very  last  the  powers  of 
anarchy  and  chaos  that  these  reformers  had  begun  so  effec 
tively  to  check  almost  seemed  to  be  again  in  the  ascendant, 
so  that  as  this  chapter  of  Atlantean  decline  closes  we  are 
left  in  a  really  painful  suspense  between  hope  and  fear  for 
the  future.  Like  the  " unfinished  window  of  Aladdin's 
tower/'  however,  the  story  of  the  future  of  this  movement 
to  supplant  the  legal  guild  must  remain  forever  unfinished. 
Let  us  hope  at  least  that  our  eon  may  last  long  enough  so 
that  if  there  should  be  similar  issues  at  stake,  the  god  of 
history  that  always  repeats  himself  may  finish  his  work 
with  us,  because  thus  only  can  we  know  whether  man  can 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  45 

truly  domesticate  or  civilize  himself,  or  whether  he  is 
doomed  forever  to  fail  at  last,  and  whether,  whatever  their 
glory,  the  worlds  he  makes  for  himself  must  always  end  in 
disaster  and  shame. 

v 

THE  GLORY  AND  SHAME  OF  LEARNING 

IP  there  was  any  domain  in  which  the  Atlantean  race  in 
its  prime  excelled  all  other  races  of  man  it  seemed  to  have 
been  in  learning;  at  least  her  best  traditions  here  appear 
to  have  left  more  of  their  dim  vestiges  and  sporadic  ideal 
outcrops  in  the  form  of  dreams  and  wishes  unfulfilled  sug 
gestive  to  us  of  a  time  when  men  should  become  really  lords 
of  creation  and  masters  of  their  fate.  We  begin  with  some 
salient  features  of  their  methods  of  education.  After  the 
medicos  had  accepted  the  infant  as  having  a  primicb  facie 
right  to  live,  as  it  were,  in  a  probationary  way,  the  mother 
of  each  was  examined  and  her  regimen  prescribed  con- 
formatory  to  an  ancient  precept  that  for  the  first  year  or 
two  she  is  the  best  mother  who  is  the  best  wet-nurse.  She 
must  handle  and  take  personal  care  of  her  child,  attend  to 
its  attire,  and  make  this  stage  of  animal  parenthood,  on 
which  all  its  higher  functions  rest,  complete.  Mothers  who 
performed  all  these  functions  best  were  endowed  by  the 
state  and  given  a  bonus  for  every  well-born  child,  so  that 
each  mother  of  four  could  live  from  this  vocation.  ' '  Stirp 
inventories,"  which  our  baby-shows  suggest,  were  held 
every  year,  at  which  each  child  up  to  the  age  of  four  years 
must  be  present  and  be  carefully  inspected  by  experts  and 
graded  on  thirty  points,  with  prizes  for  the  best.  Each 
parent  had  also  to  answer  on  oath  certain  intimate  ques 
tions  and  keep  certain  records,  and  these  dual  yearly  re 
ports  were  carefully  filed  as  the  first  pages  of  a  "life  and 
health  book"  thus  begun  at  or  before  the  birth  of  every 


46         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

child.  By  methods  more  developed  than  those  of  our  so- 
called  conditioned  reflex,  not  only  intelligence  but  temper 
and  psychic  diathesis  could  be  rated  during  the  first  year 
of  the  infant 's  life.  The ' l  mothers  of  the  state ' '  were  proud 
to  wear  the  modest  badge  indicating  their  function  and  dur 
ing  the  period  of  lactation  they  were  regarded  as  vestals 
even  by  their  husbands,  and  when  they  became  gravid 
again,  or  even  for  the  first  time,  there  was  no  parturition- 
phobia,  because  there  were  always  methods  of  twilight 
sleep  more  advanced  than  our  own  and  proved  innocuous  in 
their  results,  although  most  mothers  preferred  to  experience 
birth  pangs,  feeling  that  it  made  their  parenthood  more 
complete.  The  Atlanteans  could  not  only  analyze  but  com 
pound  mother's  milk,  as  we  cannot;  but  only  imperfect 
mothers  had  recourse  even  to  this  for  those  who  were  nor 
mal  felt  that  even  if  nature 's  laboratory  could  be  imitated, 
the  very  act  of  suckling  their  offspring  made  both  the  ma 
ternal  function  and  infants  themselves  more  perfect,  while 
in  the  case  of  those  few  infants  who  had  thus  to  become 
4 '  parasites  of  the  cow ' '  it  was  realized  that  they  were  more 
or  less  handicapped  in  the  race  of  life. 

The  importance  of  the  first  quadrennium  of  life,  the  At 
lanteans  realized,  even  more  than  do  our  Freudians,  should 
be  sacred  to  the  development  of  character,  temperament, 
and  disposition,  all  of  which  were  now  plastic  and  in  their 
nascent  stage,  as  they  would  never  be  again.  Thus  there 
were  almost  no  repressions  but  all  possible  evocations.  In 
fants  were  allowed,  and  often  even  encouraged,  to  cry, 
because  this  was  their  chief  form  of  exercise,  especially  be 
fore  walking,  and  because  it  developed  circulation  and  gave 
volume  to  lungs  and  voice.  The  pleasure-pain  principle 
was  allowed  a  wide  and  almost  unrestricted  play.  Nudity 
without  shame  was  cultivated,  and  health  and  stamina  were 
the  prime  quaesita. 

The  first  education  was  solely  by  play  and  story.    One 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  47 

group  of  experts  compiled  all  known  plays,  games,  and 
sports,  and  rated  the  physical  and  moral  value  and  the 
best  age  for  each,  always  on  the  basis  of  long-tried-out  ex 
periments  and  observations,  giving  great  weight  to  chil 
dren's  preferences.  The  ablest  individuals  of  this  group 
occasionally  succeeded  in  inventing  original  games  or  toys 
that  "took"  with  the  children  and  had  their  own  morale. 
There  was  thus  a  large  repertory,  not  only  of  plays  and 
games  but  also  of  toys  for  young  and  old,  individual  and 
social,  free  and  controlled,  indoor,  street,  park,  field,  forest, 
and  shore  plays.  It  was  understood  that  almost  everything 
could  be  taught  playwise,  and  no  great  institution,  inven 
tion,  or  discovery  was  complete  until  it  had  been  reduced 
to  its  simplest  elements  in  toy  form.  Capacity  for  play 
was  the  criterion  of  educability.  The  child  that  could  not 
play  with  abandon  was  not  worth  educating.  Those,  too, 
who  could  not  do  teamwork  and  recognize  the  spirit  of  jus 
tice  and  subordination  were  not  thought  to  give  promise  of 
being  desirable  citizens  and  were  thus  refused  education. 
Toy  congresses  were  also  held,  with  prizes  and  awards  for 
merit,  and  there  were  also  museums  where  were  collected, 
demonstrated,  and  loaned  to  schools,  every  grade  and  form 
of  illustrative  device  and  apparatus  that  short-circuited 
educational  processes  in  every  branch.  Besides  the  investi 
gators  in  this  field,  there  were  paidotribes  who  applied 
their  results,  reporting  their  findings  that  comparisons 
might  give  ever  clearer  verdicts  as  to  the  very  best  and 
warning  against  the  second  best,  which  is  the  curse  of  medi 
ocrity. 

In  likewise  tbe  storyologists  ransacked  mythology,  litera 
ture,  and  even  daily  life  for  tales,  also  simplifying  all  the 
older  classic  ones,  and  always  having  the  children  repeat 
and  thus  reedit  them  tA  show  what  found  deepest  lodgment 
and  response.  These  were  also  curricularized  for  older  and 
younger  minds,  and  grouped  as  to  the  virtues  which  they 


48         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

taught  or  the  faults  which  they  were  designed  to  cure. 
Thus  a  very  carefully  chosen  canon  was  evolved,  and  from 
this,  we  may  add,  grew  an  organization  which  passed  upon 
all  literature  for  the  young  and  allowed  nothing  to  be  pub 
lished  that  did  not  conform  to  their  standards.  Thus  every 
thing  that  we  should  call  classic  or  biblical  was  simplified 
in  the  form  of  story  roots,  and  many  of  them  were  not  only 
told  but  acted  by  and  for  the  children,  with  due  apprecia 
tion  of  their  passion  for  representing  not  only  types  of  hu 
man,  but  even  of  animal,  character  (for  great  attention  was 
paid  to  the  animal  epos).  Many  of  these  narratives  were 
also  put  in  scenario  form  and  shown  in  the  movies,  for 
which  provision  was  made  in  every  school.  At  a  more  ad 
vanced  stage  every  drama  or  important  story  prescribed 
for  reading  was  heard  at  a  theater  which  was  a  part  of 
the  school  system  of  every  municipality,  where  the  morale 
of  each  was  enforced  by  every  device  which  scenery,  stage 
trappings,  and  the  best  actors  could  command;  and  we 
might  add  here,  too,  that  the  histrionic  art,  with  a  model 
theater  and  copious  literature  and  all  devices  of  the  scenic 
art,  was  found  and  its  unique  culture  power  brought  out 
in  every  seat  of  higher  learning.  Certain  of  the  best  tales 
were  transmitted  by  these  bards  of  children  solely  by  oral 
tradition,  and  so  sacredly  were  they  regarded  that  it  was 
made  a  crime  to  print  or  write  them. 

In  connection  with  the  animal  epos,  each  larger  town 
had  its  pedagogic-zoological  garden,  where  the  typical 
beasts,  large  and  small,  and  from  various  climes,  could  be 
observed  at  first  hand,  and  household  pets  and  barnyards 
of  domesticated  animals  were  utilized  for  education.  Many 
types  of  animal  life,  especially  as  children  know  them,  em 
body  single  human  traits  as  if  Mansoul  were  dissected  into 
its  elements  that  children  might  by  means  of  their  interest 
in  them  here  begin  the  study  of  man.  Thus  the  lion  is  the 
symbol  of  boldness;  Reynard,  of  cunning;  the  sloth,  of 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  49 

laziness ;  the  eel,  of  slithyness ;  the  bear,  of  boorishness ;  and 
so  of  the  sheep,  bat,  serpent,  wolf,  eagle,  dog,  beaver,  rat, 
weasel,  ape,  mammoth,  butterfly,  ant,  bee,  raven,  parrot, 
pelican,  and  many  more,  as  countless  tropes,  similes,  fables, 
and  myths  show.  It  is  the  same  symbolism  latent  in  the 
child's  mind  that  finds  poetic  expression  in  Shelley's  "Sky 
lark,"  Bryant's  "Waterfowl,"  Holmes'  "Chambered  Nau 
tilus,"  etc.,  to  say  nothing  of  fictitious  creatures  like  the 
phoenix,  centaur,  hippogrif,  roc,  dragons,  etc.  Each  im 
portant  animal  had  its  child  book  abounding  in  pictures, 
myth,  and  also  epitomizing  the  most  salient  and  interesting 
features  that  naturalists  and  comparative  psychologists  had 
found  out.  Children's  instinct  to  fancy  themselves  one 
animal  after  another;  their  interest  in  all  extreme  human 
types — the  miser,  sot,  hobo,  spendthrift,  fool,  dub,  hypo 
crite,  sycophant,  fop,  lover,  devotee — all  these,  even  if  they 
go  to  the  extreme  of  impersonation,  gave  elasticity  to  char 
acter,  range  of  sympathy,  and  insight  and  plasticity  to  the 
intellect. 

Great  stress  was  laid  upon  the  educational  value  of  music 
in  a  large  sense  as  the  language  of  the  emotions,  just  as 
speech  is  that  of  the  intellect.  Selections  of  both  words  and 
music  which  must  be  truly  wed  were  made  solely  with  refer 
ence  to  the  sentiments  they  cultivated,  which  were  chiefly 
those  found  in  the  field  of  love  and  of  nature,  home,  coun 
try,  and  God.  The  younger  children  were  taught  by  and  to 
use  the  voice  only  and  always  by  rote  at  first,  for  it  was 
thought  to  be  as  absurd  to  teach  notation  before  the  child 
commanded  a  large  repertory  of  songs  by  ear  as  it  would  be 
to  teach  writing  before  the  child  could  speak.  For  older 
children  in  every  school  there  was  a  canon  of  both  instru 
mental  and  vocal  music  that  might  be  heard  from  mechani 
cal  productions  of  them  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
original. 

Inseparable  from  music  was,  of  course,   dancing,  the 


50         BECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

power  of  which  to  cadence  the  soul,  to  give  it  both  control 
and  elan,  was  indicated  by  the  Atlantean  proverb,  "The 
father  of  mind  is  speech ;  the  father  of  prose  is  poetry ;  the 
father  of  poetry  is  rhythm;  and  the  father  of  rhythm  is 
God."  Dancing  was  carried  to  a  very  high  degree  of  per 
fection  and  was  of  many  kinds.  There  were  military 
dances,  which  symbolized  the  salient  features  and  senti 
ments  of  all  the  typical  activities  of  war ;  industrial  dances, 
which  pantomimed  the  chief  occupations;  social  dances, 
which  set  forth  man's  duty  toward  all  the  institutional 
products  of  his  gregarious  instinct ;  amorous  dances,  which 
depicted  in  sublimated  form  the  manifestations  of  the  mat 
ing  instinct.  Religious  dances,  which  merged  by  impercep 
tible  gradations  into  rituals  and  ceremonies  and  pageant 
representations  of  the  mythos  of  all  the  chief  faiths,  were 
very  highly  developed.  There  were  prizes  for  new  motor 
expressions  in  all  these  fields,  and  every  suggestion  from 
savage  life  was  exploited  to  the  uttermost  by  choreographic 
artists,  some  of  the  most  signal  devices  of  whom  were  as 
catching  as  in  our  era  the  polka,  e.g.,  first  proved,  when 
statesmen  and  scholars  neglected  their  duties  to  indulge  in 
the  pleasures  of  it.  Only  Delacrose  in  our  era  has  glimpsed 
the  possibilities  here  which  the  Atlanteans  knew  so  well. 

The  beginnings  of  education  were  in  the  home,  and  no 
girl  was  allowed  to  marry  or  become  a  mother  until  the 
marriage  board  had  satisfied  themselves  of  her  competence, 
not  only  to  bear  but  to  train  children  during  the  first  three 
or  four  years  of  their  life.  Then  it  was  the  custom  for 
some  mother  in  each  community  more  favored  by  compe 
tence  and  leisure  than  others  to  receive  the  children  of 
neighbors  in  her  own  home  and  with  her  own  offspring,  and 
supervise  their  activities,  teach  them  proverbs,  songs,  and 
something  of  Nature  and  God  as  her  maternal  instinct  di 
rected.  These  home-schools  left  thus  free  were  found  to  be 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  51 

very  rich  in  spontaneous  pedagogic  devices,  which  were 
always  carefully  collected  and  utilized. 

When  boys  and  girls  were  six  or  seven,  both  were  sent  to 
the  so-called  ' '  groves. ' '  These  were  always  in  the  country, 
under  trees,  with  plenty  of  sunny  spaces  and  arable  and 
fertile  soil  of  which  each  child  had  a  plot,  the  organiza 
tion  of  which  somewhat  suggests  our  * '  garden  city. ' '  Pub 
lic  transportation  to  and  from  these  educational  sites  was  a 
problem  which  gave  the  Atlanteans  no  difficulty.  Here  for 
several  years,  varying  at  the  teacher's  discretion  for  dif 
ferent  children,  each  led  during  the  day  a  life  close  to  na 
ture,  largely  out-of-doors,  with  little,  and  often  no,  knowl 
edge  of  books,  but  with  copious  pictures  and  with  a  wide 
range  of  hill,  shore,  and  wildwood  ever  open.  During  these 
years,  usually  to  the  age  of  about  ten,  all  reading  and  writ 
ing  was  discouraged  and  in  some  places  punished ;  the  first 
because  it  was  realized  that  speech  really  lives,  moves,  and 
has  its  being  in  the  ear-mouth  tracts,  centers,  and  functions, 
and  that  the  tract  represented  by  the  eye  that  reads  and 
the  hand  that  writes  not  only  evolved  eons  later  but  is  a 
process  so  long-circuited,  slowed  down,  and  devitalized  that, 
if  cultivated  too  early,  it  tends  to  suppress  rather  than  to 
develop  utterance.  Writing  was  seen  to  involve  too  great 
strain,  not  only  upon  the  tiny  pen-wagging  muscles,  but 
upon  the  eye,  so  that  it  was  placed  at  the  end  of  a  long 
series  of  preliminary  exercises  with  larger  fundamental 
muscles.  There  was  no  problem  of  spelling  in  the  Atlan- 
tean  language.  The  phonic  symbols  for  each  vocal  element 
were  unmistakable,  and  as  no  two  words  either  looked  or 
sounded  alike,  it  was  almost  as  impossible  to  misspell  as  it 
was  to  pun.  In  these  fore-schools,  too,  all  number  work 
was  oral  and  mental.  It  began  with  counting  forward, 
backward,  skipping-wise,  and  the  elements  of  geometry 
came  out  in  measurements  incidental  to  children's  occupa 
tions.  The  simplest  and  fewest  number  symbols  were 


52         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

learned  only  when  the  stage  of  development  had  been 
reached  that  made  them  imperative.  Thus  every  kind  of 
arithmomania  was  avoided.  Geography  began  in  topogra 
phy  and  widened  from  the  schoolyard  to  the  township  and 
finally  to  the  state  and  to  the  world.  Each  school  laid 
out  a  miniature  state  in  a  kind  of  land  map  plotted  to 
scale  and  showing  mountains,  valleys,  river-beds,  and  town 
ships,  all  made  with  spades,  and  in  the  capital  city  was  a 
large  revolving  globe  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  in  diame 
ter,  one-half  millionth  that  of  the  earth,  on  the  metallic 
surface  of  which  were  etched  all  the  essential  details  of 
each  country  and  the  smaller  items  of  each  province,  and 
even  estates  often  were  engraved  so  minutely  that  a  micro 
scope  was  often  required  to  read  them ;  while  in  the  wings 
of  the  building  which  housed  this  globe  was  a  geographical 
library  for  savants.  In  these  "groves"  there  were  models 
of  the  moon,  sun,  planets,  and  the  stars,  always  illustrated 
fay  orreries  and  charts  embodying  in  juvenile  form  th« 
major  results  of  astronomy,  and  also  the  compiled  folklore 
for  the  development  of  sentiment.  Of  the  moon,  e.g.,  it 
was  taught  that  it  was  once  ripped  from  the  earth  from 
which  it  was  slowly  retreating,  and  was  the  frozen  corpse 
of  a  dead  world,  with  no  air,  moisture,  or  life,  a  prophecy 
of  what  our  earth  will  sometime  become.  It  was  also  repre 
sented  as  the  dearest  celestial  object  watching  over  us, 
weaving  charming  spells,  and  a  not  unworthy  object  toward 
which  to  direct  prayer-wishes.  Thus  science  and  sentiment 
must  be  harmonized. 

Play  merged  over  into  work  first  in  the  construction  of 
toys  that  the  child  wished  to  use,  and  the  fabrication  of  a 
series  of  crude  and  simple  physical  instruments  illustrating 
the  rudiments  of  optics,  acoustics,  electricity,  mechanics, 
etc.,  the  interest  being  always  focused  upon  the  product 
rather  than  upon  the  process.  Interest  was  everywhere  the 
muse,  and  it  was  held  to  be  a  kind  of  rape  to  force  knowl- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  53 

edge  upon  unwilling  minds  and  a  sin  against  the  Holy 
Ghost  not  to  gratify  at  once  and  to  the  saturation  point 
every  legitimate  manifestion  of  curiosity.  Evocation  of 
zest  and  spontaneity  was  always  sought,  and  every  child 
was  incessantly  observed  and  rated,  not  by  the  quantum  of 
knowledge  he  acquired  but  by  the  strength  and  manifold- 
ness  of  his  interests.  Even  at  the  end  of  the  higher  educa 
tion  it  was  understood  that  the  momentum  of  the  impulse 
to  know  and  do  and  not  the  bulk  of  acquisitions  was  the 
criterion  of  educational  values,  and  graduation  was  the 
beginning  and  not  the  end  of  culture.  There  was  no  com 
pulsion,  even  of  attendance;  nor  was  there  much  need. 

During  the  quadrennium  from  eight  or  ten  to  twelve  or 
fourteen  the  foregoing  methods  were  supplemented  by  drill 
or  Dressur.  Disciplinary  and  obligatory  goals  predomi 
nated.  All  must  now  learn  to  read  and  write,  but  the  rest 
was  elective.  Each  pupil,  with  his  parents'  cooperation, 
must  choose  some  line  of  activity  and  each  found  fit  was 
held  to  it  by  rigorous  methods.  If  one  or  more  other  lan 
guages  were  taken,  as  was  rarely  the  case  or  need,  there  was 
incessant  and  at  first  chiefly  oral  drill,  while  the  speech 
muscles  and  faculties  were  in  their  nascent  period.  If  it 
was  music,  or  a  technical  or  even  manual  labor  requiring 
skill,  all  were  subjected  to  rigid  mechanical  practice  to 
make  everything  automatic  as  early  and  completely  as  pos 
sible.  Some  dug,  planted,  helped  in  the  quarries,  streets, 
farms,  or  factories,  for  child  labor  proportionate  to  the 
child's  strength  was  deemed  necessary  for  physical  and 
moral  development,  for  every  form  of  physical  labor  was 
done  by  the  easiest  and  fewest  movements  possible,  with 
vast  economy  of  effort  in  nearly  every  process.  Teachers 
had  many  books,  and  pupils  few.  Something  was  taught 
of  the  history  and  culture  value  of  every  occupation  to 
give  even  to  drudgery  its  pedagogic  and  moral  points  de 
repere. 


54         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

At  the  dawn  of  the  new  life  of  puberty  the  "groves" 
were  left,  and  all,  save  those  with  some  marked  incompe 
tence  or  inferiority,  reverted  to  their  homes  in  the  town 
or  city.  Of  these  some  began  their  occupational  life,  for 
every  industry  had  its  juvenile  department,  where  the  kind, 
hours,  and  circumstances  of  labor  were  adjusted  to  the  hy 
gienic  and  moral  needs  of  youth,  which  left  plenty  of  time 
and  opportunity  for  continuation  training,  while  those  fit 
ted  for  the  higher  education  went  to  middle  schools,  or 
people's  colleges,  which  were  the  pride  of  every  town  and 
municipality.  Here  the  courses  lasted  from  four  to  five 
to  seven  or  eight  years,  according  to  the  intellectual  ability 
of  each.  No  one  was  held  back  by  slower  mates,  for  the 
Atlanteans  had  provided  for  exceptionally  gifted  children 
no  less  effectively  than  we  have  done  for  those  who  are 
subnormal,  for  the  latter  were  thought  far  less  worthy  of 
pedagogic  effort.  Now  the  sexes  were  more  or  less  segre 
gated,  as  the  normal  tastes  and  prospective  spheres  of  each 
were  differentiated.  Among  girls  a  still  more  marked  dif 
ferentiation  spontaneously  arose  between  those  who  looked 
forward  to  motherhood  and  domestic  life  and  those  who 
sought  self-support.  There  were  no  dead  languages  and  few 
studied  anything  not  to  be  used  later.  There  were  no 
examinations  as  we  know  them.  Thus,  each  in  a  sense  had 
his  or  her  own  course,  and  advancement  or  demotion  almost 
came  of  itself.  At  this  stage  Kultur  perhaps  somewhat 
prevailed  over  culture;  at  least  applications  were  every 
where  attempted  and  everywhere  attended  to  as  zest-gen 
erators.  All  pupils  visited  under  expert  supervision  all 
local  institutions — administrative,  civil,  hygienic,  indus 
trial,  charitable,  penal,  legislative,  and  thus  became  in  a 
sense  apprenticed  to  the  life  of  the  community,  which  was 
made  to  flow  through  the  schools,  and  the  members  of  each 
thus  learned  to  distinguish  what  kind  of  knowledge  was  of 
most  worth.  Every  locality,  especially  if  rural,  was  left 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  55 

practically  free  to  conduct  not  only  its  mother  schools,  but 
its  " groves/'  as  it  would.  The  state  as  such  did  nothing 
educational  for  its  children  till  at  the  age  of  eighteen  or 
twenty  they  were  ready  for  academic  life,  focusing  all  its 
funds  and  supervision  upon  the  later  higher  stages  of 
training  of  its  intellectually  elite  for  leadership.  Here,  in 
most  departments,  the  "  guides "  had  early  fallen  naturally 
into  two  chief  groups,  the  demonstrators,  and  the  pioneers. 
The  former  conducted  the  so-called  theaters  and  the  latter 
inspired  and  led  in  researches.  In  physiology,  e.g.,  the 
demonstrator  with  his  corps  of  assistants  working  in  the 
theater  laboratory  prepared  one  after  another  standard  ex 
periment  with  elaborate  chart-scenery  and  apparatus  set 
ting  forth  objectively  every  method  and  result  in  the  do 
main  of  digestion,  assimilation,  the  action  of  glands  and 
hormones,  circulation,  respiration,  muscle  action,  secretive 
and  eliminative  processes,  fatigue,  rest,  sleep,  the  functions 
of  every  sense,  conduction  and  reaction  time  of  nerves  and 
centers,  etc.  The  same  practice  prevailed  in  chemistry  and 
physics,  while  in  such  fields  as  astronomy,  geology,  meteor 
ology,  botany,  zoology,  and  anthropology,  every  possible  ex 
perimentation  was  supplemented  by  a  wealth  of  diagrams, 
models,  photographs,  and  movies.  In  every  science  its  his 
tory,  epochs,  and  great  men  were  stressed  to  give  humanis 
tic  zest,  and  even  applications  to  arts  and  industries  had 
their  place  to  stimulate  interest. 

The  Atlanteans  had  bored  the  earth  for  miles  in  places, 
so  that  they  could  draw  on  its  central  energies  for  power, 
light,  and  heat,  for  their  coal  proved  more  expensive  and 
all  their  forests  were  artificial.  They  also  utilized  energy 
from  sea-waves,  tides,  and  the  sun,  and  some  of  them  had 
learned  to  make  radium  and  utilize  its  incalculable  power 
in  place  of  electricity.  Others  had  successfully  signaled 
Mars  and  were  accumulating  precious  data  on  the  life  of 
the  Martians.  Still  others  were  planning  an  expedition  to 


56         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

the  moon  with  engines  that  could,  with  the  aid  of  the 
strongest  ballistic  powers  to  start  them,  negotiate  the  ether. 
On  the  summit  of  their  highest  mountain  a  tower  of  three 
thousand  feet  was  built  to  study  the  effects  of  rarefication. 
The  botanists  had  developed  many  kinds  of  new  plants, 
flowers,  and  fruits,  which  were  cleverly  composed  by  the 
arts  of  cross-fertilization,  so  that  the  vegetable  kingdom 
had  become  very  plastic  to  man ;  while  experimental  studies 
of  animal  breeding  had  led  them  to  control  this  and  to  de 
velop  many  new  species,  some  of  which  could  propagate 
their  kind.  Certain  elements  their  chemists  could  generate, 
and  some  of  them  had  begun  to  make  diamonds  and  gold 
in  their  laboratories.  The  biologists  could  evolve  life  from 
crystals  and  emulsions  and  could  generate  many  new  or 
ganic  substances  by  their  mastery  of  carbon  compounds. 
The  wealth  and  resources  of  their  laboratories  where  all  this 
was  done  far  surpassed  ours,  and  every  opportunity  and  in 
centive  to  the  pioneer  was  provided,  with  the  constant  ad 
monition  to  contribute  something  new  to  human  knowledge, 
even  though  it  be  but  a  tiny  brick  in  the  great  temple  of 
science,  which  was  regarded  as  the  supreme  creation  of 
man.  Those  who  did  so  and  gave  promise  of  future  intel 
lectual  fecundity  were  supported  by  the  state  and  exempted 
from  all  other  duties.  The  leading  pioneers  were  given  a 
seat  in  the  academic  council,  which  was  the  chief  honor 
the  state  could  bestow,  and  their  effigies  were  placed  in  the 
Hall  of  Fame.  They  were  given  the  freedom  of  honored 
guests  of  the  nation,  and  along  with  the  leisure  thus  as 
sured,  they  were  given  a  simple  admonition,  "Keep  doing 
your  best  thing  and  eschew  every  second  best  activity." 
They  were  regarded  as  the  light  and  hope  of  the  state. 
They  had  but  to  present  their  projects  and  they  were  at 
once  put  into  execution.  Whenever  they  went  abroad,  it 
was  in  state  and  they  were  so  revered  that  sometimes  cities 
vied  with  each  otTier  for  the  honor  of  having  given  them 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  57 

birth  or  of  having  nurtured  them  in  youth,  for  in  Atlantis 
every  one  could  rise  from  the  humblest  to  the  most  exalted 
station  upon  merit.  Yet  even  they,  and  perhaps  they  best 
of  all,  realized  that  man  had  just  begun  to  know  and  com 
mand  Nature,  that  even  they  were  small,  weak,  and  ignorant 
of  most  that  man  should  know  and  could  do. 

History  was  philosophy  teaching  by  example,  and  its 
moral  aspect  was  always  stressed.  It  was  commonly  taught 
backward  from  effect  to  cause,  and  with  the  most  advanced 
students  penetrated  even  toward  the  dawn  of  history. 
Here,  too,  charts,  diagrams  and  graphic  methods,  and  every 
device  of  photography  were  utilized.  While  the  geographic, 
climatic,  and  economic  aspects  of  history  were  stressed,  it 
was  recognized  that  here  lay  the  realm  of  human  freedom 
and  often  a  very  arbitrary  choice,  and  that  the  characters 
of  great  men  must  be  analyzed,  and  especially  that  history 
is  ever  in  the  making,  so  that  its  best  pages  cannot  be  writ 
ten  yet  because  the  best  things  have  not  yet  come  to  pass. 
It  was  seen  that  great  leaders  are  presentifiers  resolving 
everything  into  the  here  and  now,  making  every  issue  a 
devoir  present. 

Economics  and  sociology  were  chiefly  intent  on  compiling 
all  the  experiences  of  man  in  industrial,  civil,  and  social 
life,  so  as  to  find  the  very  best  conditions  of  his  further  de 
velopment.  In  the  best  Atlantean  period  even  these 
savants  were  in  closest  rapport  with  the  governmental  pol 
icy  and  the  great  organizations  and  were  not  recusants  from 
practical  life,  for  all  strove  toward  ideal  conditions  to  avoid 
lapsing  from  them,  so  that  experts  in  this  field  were  not 
prone  to  cut  loose  from  reality  and  revel  in  Utopian  and 
milennial  dreameries. 

Psychology,  after  a  long  speculative  period,  had  emanci 
pated  itself  from  metaphysics  and  to  some  extent  from 
physiology  and  had  become  a  culminating  academic  theme, 
the  only  one  which  all  desired  and  which  it  was  felt  need- 


58         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ful  to  know.  It  was  genetic,  comparative,  clinical,  and 
strove  chiefly  to  give  self-knowledge  and  self-control.  It 
associated  itself  closely  with,  religion  and  also  with  educa 
tion,  analyzed  individualities  to  discern  the  best  that  was 
in  every  one  and  to  guide  him  to  it,  and  to  realize  that  the 
soul  of  man  is  no  less  a  product  of  evolution  than  is  his 
body;  and  it  also  regarded  all  languages,  myths,  institu 
tions,  faiths,  and  even  deities  and  everything  transceli- 
dental  as  projections  of  Mansoul.  It  was  more  or  less  prag 
matic,  but  put  the  primordial  developmental  nisus  which 
we  dub  will-to-live,  elan  vital,  libido,  Jiorme,  etc.,  as  the 
supreme  thing  in  all  the  world,  surcharged  with  the  promise 
and  potency  of  a  higher  race  of  supermen  which  it  was  the 
business  of  civilization  and  learning  to  produce. 

The  spirit  of  intellectual  Atlantis  culminated  in  the  so- 
called  frontiersmen,  whom  we  might  call  pure  academicians, 
who  lived  somewhat  apart  and  who  planned  and  executed 
major  enterprises  of  discovery  and  control  of  nature  and 
of  man.  It  was  they  who  had  established  observatories  on 
each  pole,  both  geographic  and  magnetic,  which  were  in 
constant  wireless  connection  with  each  other  summer  and 
winter ;  built  several  steel  cofferdams  to  the  very  bottom  of 
the  deepest  parts  of  the  sea  which  swayed  with  the  stronger 
surface  currents  and  storm-waves  as  our  skyscrapers  do  to 
high  wind;  constructed  and  directed  the  thermal  labora 
tories  which  commanded  a  temperature  all  the  way  from 
absolute  zero,  where  even  chemical  affinities  were  dead  and 
every  kind  of  energy  save  gravity  was  in  abeyance,  up  to 
about  20,000°  P.,  at  which  every  substance — earth, 
rocks,  and  even  the  elements — was  vaporized  and  all  matter 
volatile;  suggested  and  made  possible  the  extremely  profit 
able  enterprise  of  recovering  sunken  treasures  from  the  sea 
bed,  etc.  In  a  vast  hall  all  the  phenomena  of  weather 
changes  and  climate,  storm,  thunder  and  lightning,  tornado, 
and  cyclone  could  be  reproduced  in  miniature  under  con- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  59 

trolled  conditions,  and  there  was  a  yet  more  elaborate  hall, 
where  it  was  hoped  to  reproduce  the  chief  phenomena  of 
the  early  stages  of  the  evolution  of  the  planets  from  cosmic 
ether  and  nebulae.  A  section  of  these  frontiersmen  di 
rected  the  work  of  making  microscopes  and  telescopes  which, 
by  composition  and  combination  and  correction  of  lenses, 
so  greatly  extended  the  range  of  man's  visual  knowledge 
toward  both  the  infinitely  great  and  small  that  some  of  our 
speculative  elements  like  atoms,  vital  units,  such  as  ids, 
gemmules  and  even  ions  were  proved  or  disproved  by  an 
appeal  to  vision.  Another  group  devoted  themselves  to 
hyper-  or  n-dimensional  space,  for  it  was  known  that  be 
yond  the  limits  of  the  stellar  universe  which  is  lenticular, 
the  Milky  Way  being  due  to  the  fact  that  we  look  out 
toward  the  edges  from  near  the  center  of  this  cosmic  lens, 
there  stretched  an  infinite  ocean  of  space  unpopulated  by 
stars,  wherein  many  of  the  principles  and  even  the  axioms 
of  our  Euclidean  geometry  do  not  hold.  For  the  details  of 
these  and  many  other  scientific  enterprises,  some  more  and 
some  less  developed,  the  reader  must  wait  for  the  fuller 
account  yet  to  appear  in  a  volume  of  the  above-announced 
report. 

I  will  only  mention  here  one  of  the  most  adventurous 
projects,  viz.,  that  of  the  group  of  frontiersmen  who  de 
voted  themselves  to  bettering  the  human  stock  or  to  pro 
ducing  what  we  only  dream  of  as  the  superman.  They  se 
lected  after  many  cunningly  devised  tests  and  examinations 
a  number  of  individuals  of  each  sex  and  also  from  each  race 
of  man  that  they  deemed  ascendant  and  not  descendant,  and 
for  them  controlled  all  the  processes  connected  with  the 
act  and  the  function  of  reproduction.  The  entire  regimen 
of  the  men  was  directed  to  maximize  their  potential  father 
hood  and  that  of  the  woman,  their  motherhood.  In  these 
Edens  or  new-world  cunabula,  as  they  were  called,  it  was 
sought  to  determine  by  experiment  and  observation  the 


60         RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

eugenic  value  of  love  versus  the  wisest  assignment  of  mates 
that  these  pathfinders  for  humanity  could  suggest,  the  best 
conditions  and  methods  of  courtship  and  even  marital 
approach,  its  frequency  before,  and  place  after,  and  the 
effects  of  abstinence  or  indulgence  during,  gravidity. 
Special  attention  was  given  to  the  effects  of  divergence, 
identity,  or  complementation  of  types  and  dispositions,  the 
effects  of  different  emotional  conditions  during  pregnancy 
and  nursing,  the  length  of  the  latter  period,  and  even  the 
choice  of  a  wet-nurse  if  in  extremity  this  should  be  neces 
sary.  The  crossing  of  different  human  stocks  or  races  was 
tried  out  with  a  view  to  finding  favorable  and  unfavorable 
combinations  and  to  determining  whether  an  exhausted 
stock  could  be  rejuvenated  by  blending  with  one  more  pri 
mal.  One  of  these  departments  was  devoted  to  the  study 
of  the  effects  of  diseases  upon  heredity  and  to  determine 
when  propagation  should  be  forbidden  or  even  made  im 
possible. 

I  must  omit  here  all  account  of  the  various  experimental 
social  and  industrial  organizations  which  were  located  in 
various  provinces  of  Atlantis  to  determine  the  best  condi 
tions  of  production,  civil  and  political  organizations,  as  well 
as  even  the  best  forms  of  religion,  for  the  reports  of  these 
experimental  stations  will  make  one  of  the  most  interest 
ing  of  the  forthcoming  volumes.  Syndicalism,  direct  ac 
tion,  cooperation,  much  and  little  regimentation,  colonial 
policies,  taxation,  centralization  versus  local  autonomy, 
kinds  and  limits  of  suffrage  which  mi^ht  be,  and  sometimes 
were,  withdrawn  from  both  individuals  and  communities, 
modes  of  dealing  with  harlotry  and  intoxication — on  all 
these  it  was  sought  to  collect  valuable  data  which  would 
really  be  scientific  and  normative. 

It  had  taken  many  centuries  of  hard  work  by  the  best 
minds  to  evolve  this  system,  but  its  decline  and  fall  was 
rapid.  It  began  with  the  growth  of  the  proletariat  which 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  61 

demanded  that  every  opportunity  be  open  to  all.  There 
must  be  no  exclusion  of  the  inferior  or  unfit  from  every 
privilege  or  incentive  provided  for  the  best.  Throngs  of 
second-rate  pupils  made  it  necessary  to  refit  all  knowledge 
to  a  lower  average  of  intelligence  and  slow  down  the  pace 
of  the  best.  Then  arose  a  cry  against  cloistered  learning. 
The  "people"  must  know  all  the  projects  of  the  pioneers 
and  even  of  the  frontiersmen  and  pass  upon  them,  and  they 
were  charged  with  quixotic  schemes  and  with  extravagance, 
and  thus  the  resources  available  for  research  were  gradu 
ally  cut  down.  A  movement  akin  to  our  university  exten 
sion  compelled  savants  to  itinerate  and  teach  the  masses, 
till  extensive  eclipsed  intensive  work,  and  there  was  little 
left  at  the  centers  to  "extend."  All  education  must  be 
immediately  and  crassly  useful,  and  everywhere  the  cult  of 
mediocrity  began  to  exclude  that  of  talent.  The  pioneers, 
it  was  said,  had  hitherto  devoted  themselves  to  the  cult  of 
the  useless  and  made  their  seats  of  learning  places  where 
nothing  useful  was  taught,  and  now  they  must  execute  a 
volte-face  and  cultivate  nothing  useless.  A  few  great 
leaders  had  no  training  beyond  that  of  the  "groves,"  and 
therefore  it  was  said  the  higher  learning  was  of  doubtful 
value  and  the  vast  resources  spent  upon  it  should  be  better 
applied.  Too  much  knowledge  intimidates,  special  train 
ing  would  probably  enfeeble  the  great  enterprisers,  and  it 
is  chiefly  needful  only  for  technologists  who  are  not  masters 
but  servants.  Now  in  fact  nothing  is  so  dangerous  as  great 
ideas  in  a  little  mind  or  overweaning  ambitions  in  weak 
ones.  The  result  is  always  either  a  Phaethon-like  catastro 
phe  or  else  a  false  but  festering  sense  of  discontent  which 
may  issue  in  revolt  against  things  as  they  are ;  and  in  fact 
both  these  results  were  abundantly  illustrated  in  Atlantis. 
Now,  too,  the  state  had  to  reverse  its  policy  of  support. 
Instead  of  subsidizing  the  higher,  and  leaving  the  elemen 
tary,  training  to  private  initiative,  the  government  took 


62         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

over  and  reconstructed  not  only  the  "groves"  but  even 
the  mother-schools,  and  left  all  advanced  training  and  re 
search  to  private  enterprise.  Not  mothers  but  more  or  less 
trained  and  apprenticed  experts  must  teach  the  elements, 
and  that  by  a  method  so  uniform  that  the  director-general 
could  look  at  his  timepiece  and  say,  ( '  At  this  moment  every 
child  in  all  this  vast  system  is  doing  just  this  thing,  in 
this  way,  with  the  aid  of  this  lesson  in  this  book."  Every 
topic  was  curricularized,  graded,  quantified  into  modest 
dosages,  and  all  pupils  were  organized  into  classes  by 
lock-step  and  mass  methods,  and  individuality  tended  to 
be  lost  in  cunningly  devised  ways  of  dealing  with  children 
in  platoons.  There  were  also  expert  organizers,  and  end 
less  surveys  by  experts  to  ascertain  the  cost  of  training 
each  child  in  each  grade  per  hour  and  minute.  Ingenious 
formulae  for  obtaining  maximal  efficiency  at  minimum  cost 
were  evolved,  and  the  programs  of  meetings  of  those  who 
conducted  the  higher  academic  training  were  monopolized 
by  themes  of  office  economy,  dean  administration,  and  sta 
tistical  methods,  till  those  interested  in  education  itself  or 
in  children  and  youth,  and  especially  those  who  cared 
chiefly  for  the  advancement  of  science,  held  aloof  from  all 
this  business,  and  here,  again,  Kultur  slowly  superseded 
culture. 

Under  this  new  spirit  school  buildings,  often  sumptuous, 
multiplied,  andspecialinstitutions  for  training  teachers  were 
founded  everywhere.  If  business  activities  were  dull,  these 
latter  institutions  were  crowded;  but  if  enterprise  and 
trade  were  active  and  larger  salaries  were  offered  elsewhere, 
they  were  depleted,  so  that  now  there  was  a  dearth,  and  now 
a  superfluity,  in  the  teaching  personnel.  This  occupation 
everywhere  tended  to  be  so  poorly  paid  that  only  those 
who  had  a  kind  of  missionary  fanaticism  for  it  or  those  of 
distinctly  inferior  parts  were  found  in  it.  Textbook  and 
apparatus  artificers  multiplied  and  made  their  influence 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  63 

increasingly  felt  and  in  ways  ranging  through  a  long  ga 
mut  from  very  good  to  very  bad.  Boards  of  control  popu 
larly  chosen  from  the  masses  kept  everything  true  to  the 
standards  of  mediocrity,  striving  to  reconcile  as  best  they 
could  the  more  or  less  irreconcilable  mandates  of  economy 
and  efficiency. 

Higher  seats  of  learning  also  multiplied.  The  best  grew 
rich  as  they  grew  old,  and  aspired  to  cover  all  the  fields  of 
possible  knowledge.  Some  were  municipal,  some  provin 
cial,  some  national,  some  free  and  independent  of  all  con 
trol.  Some  were  established  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of 
the  childless  rich;  others  to  boom  local  interests  or  doc 
trinaire  views.  "While  some  were  large  and  rich,  others 
were  small  and  poor.  All  were  headed  by  shrewd  and  able 
organizers,  whose  policy  was  animated  by  two  ideals :  more 
students,  more  wealth.  Nature  and  nurture  combined,  how 
ever,  did  not  supply  sufficient  men  to  head  all  the  depart 
ments  in  these  many  institutions,  so  that  professional  qual 
ity  declined.  Many  of  them  were  drawn  away  into  more 
lucrative  or  technical  applications,  so  that  it  was  found 
impossible  to  man  some  of  the  most  important  of  them. 
Departments,  and  even  schools,  were  founded  to  meet 
passing  demand,  and  the  small  body  of  certain  and  valu 
able  knowledge  in  the  domain  of  many  such  mushroom 
/fields  was  whipped  into  a  sillabub  of  courses  in  which 
matter  was  almost  hidden  by  method.  Many,  if  not  most, 
of  these  institutions  and  departments  were  vastly  alike,  each 
copying  promptly  every  successful  new  departure  in  every 
other  instead  of  freely  differentiating  so  that  all  together 
they  could  cover  the  whole  field  of  cognition  and  not  leave 
a  vast  and  arid  acreage  untenanted.  Yet  each  of  these  in 
stitutions  deemed  itself  the  incarnation  of  some  peculiar, 
precious,  but  indefinable  spirit  that  made  it  excel  all  others 
and  which  was  always  vociferously  appealed  to.  There  were 
also  very  efficient  student-recruiting  bureaus  and  traveling 


64         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

agents  to  lure  students,  often  with  a  long  list  of  exemp 
tions,  privileges,  athletic  honors,  and  even  bonuses;  and 
there  were  incessant  drives  for  more  funds,  till  the  alumni, 
especially  if  men  of  means,  felt  themselves  almost  perse 
cuted  hy  countless  subtle  methods  of  importunity.  There 
were  expert  drive  conductors  who  sold  their  services  for  a 
percentage  of  what  they  could  raise  to  different  institu 
tions,  and  who  instituted  house-to-house  visitations,  proces 
sions,  placards,  engineered  subtle  implications  of  disloy 
alty  to  recusants,  and  who  were  super-subtle  in  the  appli 
cation  of  methods  that  were  hardly  less  than  extortionate. 
Great  donors  were  honored  by  halls,  statues,  portraits,  and 
degrees,  and  their  names  were  attached  to  many  a  fund 
and  building;  and  sometimes  obnoxious  conditions  (such  is 
the  power  of  mortmain  here)  were  adhered  to  long  after 
they  should  have  been  outgrown.  The  frailities  of  these 
donors  were  glossed  over  by  the  charity  that  has  such 
power  to  cover  sins.  As  their  wealth  increased,  many  gor 
geous  architectural  structures  arose  in  which,  as  a  result 
of  bitter  controversies  between  the  academicians,  who 
looked  chiefly  to  usefulness,  and  the  architects,  who  looked 
to  display,  the  former  had  to  capitulate  to  the  latter.  So 
lucrative  was  the  business  of  housing  and  feeding  students 
that  private  enterprises  often  entered  the  lists  and  made 
large  profits  for  outsiders,  greatly  to  the  disgust  of  the 
dons,  who  felt  that  all  that  could  be  derived  from  students 
was  legitimately  their  own.  For  all  funds  established  for 
students'  benefit  the  institution  took  first  its  toll,  deducting 
it  from  the  ever-rising  and  multiplying  student  fees.  Ex 
aminations  were  always  on,  or  in  prospect — a  long  series  of 
them  for  entrance,  one  for  each  topic,  each  term,  each  year, 
biennial  and  quadrennial  terminals.  There  were  sprung  or 
unexpected  examinations,  and  often  in  large  classes  all 
recitations  were  written,  with  a  small  but  trained  body 
of  expert  spies  to  ferret  out  illegitimate  ways  of  giving  or 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  65 

receiving  help.  There  was  also  a  large  group  of  bright 
but  impecunious  upperclass  students,  who  earned  their 
way  by  the  fearful  drudgery  of  examining  and  marking 
every  paper  of  every  student  from  the  viewpoint  of  both 
matter  and  form,  and  all  this  had  to  be  done  accurately 
because  gradation,  promotion,  and  awards  to  scholarships 
depended  upon  these  quantifications.  These  laboriously 
compiled  averages  for  each.  Meanwhile  instructors  in  these 
higher  institutions  were  made  to  feel  that  their  calling  was 
so  dignified  that  they  could  afford  to  sacrifice  material 
considerations  for  the  honor  bestowed  upon  them  and  the 
respect  in  which  they  were  held.  But  slowly  their  old 
leadership  declined,  as,  e.g.,  in  our  own  eon  the  pulpit  has 
done,  and  some  of  the  professorlings  came  to  realize  that 
they  could  no  longer  hold  their  own  with  men  of  the  world. 
Indeed  some  of  the  more  modest  and  conscientious  among 
them  even  ventured  to  ask  themselves  whether  they  were 
not  living  in  a  fool's  paradise,  not  only  as  to  tjhe  respect 
due  their  calling,  but  whether  they  were  really  earning 
their  own  modest  salaries.  Was  theirs  really  a  man's  task? 
Had  they  really  grown  since  they  were  seated  in  their 
chairs  or  shriveled  ? 

As  in  Gregory's  Meccama  these  new  fashions  seemed 
at  first  to  give  a  new  impulse  to  the  state.  Knowledge  was 
diffused  and  everybody  knew  something  of  everything  as  the 
omne  $i~bile  was  chased  into  practicalities.  Great  industries 
attracted  scores  of  experts  intent  upon  saving  waste  and 
utilizing  by-products.  Academic  laboratories  were  engaged 
chiefly  upon  problems  submitted  to  them  by  guilds  of  dyers, 
bakers,  miners,  laundrymen,  farmers,  gardeners,  irrigators, 
machinists,  engineers,  sewerologists,  and  scores  of  others. 
Economists  became  the  servitors  of  business,  and  even  so 
ciologists  became  apologists  of  things  as  they  are.  Psy 
chologists  tested  and  assayed  every  human  quality  with 
reference  to  every  demand  for  human  activity.  But  it  is 


66         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

one  thing  to  fit  men  to  be  cogs  in  preexisting  machinery  and 
another  to  develop  ever  higher  powers  in  man  himself 
which  impel  him  to  create  ever  newer  and  higher  institu 
tions  as  progress  demands.  Hence  the  complaint  arose  in. 
the  course  of  time  that  there  was  a  dearth  of  men  capable 
of  filling  the  most  important  positions.  Affairs  became 
Frankensteins  that  dominated  man,  their  creator.  Mech 
anism  as  it  became  perfect  grew  unprogressive  for  lack  of 
original  minds,  and  stagnation,  on  however  high  a  plane, 
always  results  in  a  decline,  and  those  who  think  them 
selves  already  perfect  never  become  so.  Regression  at  the 
top  extended  downward  and  complacency  camouflaged  sub 
tle  degeneration  of  morale.  There  were  incessant  presenta 
tions  in  diagramed  and  tabular  form,  showing  the  exact 
financial  value  of  every  added  year  and  month  of  educa 
tion,  and  these  were  everywhere  conspicuously  and  allur 
ingly  displayed.  Thus  teachers  came  to  overestimate  the 
worth  of  their  own  services  to  the  state  and  community 
and  began  to  form  unions  to  enforce  recognition  of  what 
they  deemed  their  just  increase  of  emoluments,  rights,  and 
privileges.  The  guild  of  teachers,  which  had  become  a  well- 
organized  sect  and  in  some  respects  a  sex  by  themselves, 
insisted  that  they  were  the  pillars  of  the  state  and  it  was 
their  efforts  chiefly  that  had  made  it  great  and  strong. 
They  entered  politics,  drafted  many  and  complex  laws  and 
ordinances  and  resolutions,  rallied  to  the  support  of  any  how 
ever  weak  members  of  their  own  guild  who  were  displaced, 
and  at  last,  after  many  and  long  struggles,  organized  and 
executed  a  strike  so  effectually  that  at  a  given  day  all  the 
sub-academic  schools  throughout  all  Atlantis  were  closed. 
Meetings  were  held  in  which  the  janitors  were  very  active, 
and  there  were  many  resolutions  and  statements  to  the  pub 
lic  in  justification  of  this  action.  The  "pedicos"  demanded 
not  only  more  pay  but  longer  vacations;  shorter  class 
hours ;  more  freedom  from  supervision ;  equal  pay  for  male 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  67 

and  female,  elementary  and  higher,  rural  and  urban  teach 
ing;  less  marking;  smaller  classes,  etc.  Thus  all  these 
demands,  if  granted,  would  involve  radical  reconstructions 
of  the  entire  system.  Parents,  boards,  and  superintendents 
urged  reconsideration  upon  the  irate  teachers,  and  many 
modes  of  arbitration  and  compromise  were  proposed,  but 
in  vain.  Many  communities  called  for  volunteers  and  many 
such  offered  their  services,  but,  as  we  have  seen,  the  police 
were  disorganized,  and  often  mobs  led  by  janitors  resisted 
all  efforts  to  open  buildings,  although  in  many  places  this 
was  done  and  classes  were  held  under  armed  guards,  often 
with  parents.  Here  and  there  were  attempts  to  revive  the 
old  system,  but  progress  had  been  so  vaunted  that  all  that 
was  old  was  discounted.  In  many  families  something  like 
the  mother-schools  of  the  good  old  days  were  revived,  but  the 
idea  that  teaching  was  a  fine  technical  art  had  been  so  insid 
iously  inculcated  that  there  was  little  confidence  in  teach 
ers  without  special  training.  Here  and  there  one  teacher, 
or  even  a  group  of  teachers,  relented  and  resumed  their 
old  task,  perhaps  through  pity  for  the  children,  or  as  the 
result  of  the  importunity  of  their  parents.  Meanwhile,  as 
the  months  and  years  passed,  most  of  the  teachers  found 
no  difficulty  in  obtaining  more  lucrative  positions.  Thus 
weakened  by  the  secession  from  then*  ranks  of  their  lead 
ers,  those  incapable  of  other  tasks  grew  sullen  and  morose. 
There  were  sometimes  fires  in  now  vacated  school  build 
ings  attributed  to  them,  and  occasionally  a  suspicious  ex 
plosion  wrecked  one  of  the  most  imposing  of  these  struc 
tures.  Some  of  these  were  sold  and  perhaps  transformed 
for  other  uses,  while  the  rest  fell  into  neglect.  Meanwhile, 
too,  hoodlumism  and  juvenile  crime  increased  at  a  rapid 
rate.  Gangs  of  swagger  young  toughs  often  roamed  the 
street  by  night  and  even  by  day,  committing  depredations 
upon  property  and  persons  until,  especially  in  suburbs 
where  the  men  were  away  during  the  day,  they  often  be- 


68         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

came  not  only  a  menace  but  a  terror  to  all,  especially  to 
women  and  children.  Where  schools  were  reopened,  it  was 
bands  of  young  desperadoes  who  often  broke  them  up, 
smashing  windows,  sometimes  invading  the  rooms,  turning 
out  the  children,  and  perhaps  burning  school  books,  furni 
ture,  and  illustrative  apparatus.  These  young  Apaches 
were  sometimes  led  by  their  brazen  girl  mates.  Looting 
parties  of  them  sometimes  marched  defiantly  up  and  down 
the  streets,  intent  not  only  on  sabotage,  but  upon  looting, 
and  this  evil  became  so  great  that  where  the  remnant  of 
the  police  could  not  quell  it,  soldiers  were  called  in  and 
there  was  many  a  brief  battle,  with  killing  on  both  sides. 
Former  teachers  were  objects  of  special  antagonism  by  the 
most  insubordinate  of  their  former  pupils,  and  they  were 
not  infrequently  held  up,  befouled,  and  subjected  to  every 
indignity ;  and,  if  fortunate,  they  escaped  with  no  bodily  in 
jury.  Other  of  the  older  but  less  disorderly  children  and 
youth  made  manifold  counterdemonstrations.  They  pa 
raded  with  placards,  petitioning  the  teachers  to  return, 
advocating  placatory  concessions  to  their  demands,  and 
there  were  many  encounters  between  these  and  the  hoodlum 
groups  in  which  former  classmates  were  arrayed  against 
each  other. 

The  higher  institutions  of  learning,  deprived  thus  of  their 
" fitters/'  languished.  A  few  students  here  still  managed 
to  qualify  privately,  or  in  the  few  reinstated  lower  schools, 
but  the  once  large  revenue  from  students'  fees  shrank,  and 
naturally  the  governmental  appropriations  were  still  more 
reduced  as  the  average  expense  of  training  each  student 
decupled.  All  academic  teacher-training  work  was  at  first 
stimulated  in  the  hope  of  filling  the  places  of  the  secondary 
staff,  but  this  work  soon  fell  under  the  ban.  Since  the 
collapse  of  these  departments  some  time  before,  there  were 
no  longer  students  attending  either  law  or  medicine.  Great 
efforts  were  made  to  sustain  certain  courses  deemed  essen- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  69 

tial,  while  others  were  dropped,  but  there  was  great  di 
vergence  as  to  what  branches  belonged  in  these  categories. 
Equipment,    salary,    and    upkeep    suffered    progressively. 
Both  the  " pioneers"  and  the  "frontiersmen"  first  tried  to 
sustain  themselves  by  patents  and  by  selling  their  services 
to  industries,  until  most  of  the  surviving  savants  were 
found  with  the  latter,  for  commercialism  became  the  last 
stand  of  the  moribund  scientific  spirit.    Some  of  the  higher 
institutions  abandoned  all  academic,   and   devoted  them 
selves  exclusively  to  extension  work,  for  which  the  debacle 
of  the  educational  system  for  at  least  a  season  created  a 
greatly  increased  demand.     But  overpopularized  learning 
is  diluted  and  gives  a  shallow  conceit  of  knowledge  without 
its  substance.     Thus  for  a  time  the  masses  that  thronged 
the  seats  of  learning,  not  only  evenings,  but  mornings  and 
afternoons,  slowly  diminished.     They  demanded,  too,  that 
these  new  intellectual  wares  thus  dispensed  be  brought  to 
their  own  doors.    Hence,  great  scholars  had  often  to  travel 
to  outlying  districts  and  crossroad  schools  to  vend  their 
lore.     Some  few  devoted  themselves  to  this  task  like  true 
itinerant  missionaries,  hoping  thus  to  stem  the  tide  of  de 
cay  for  their  motherland.    Some  of  the  older  seats  of  learn 
ing  closed  altogether  and  were  left  to  the  slow  processes  of 
decay.     In  one  case  of  this  kind  we  find  a  pathetic  story 
of  an  old  college  janitor  and  sexton  still  living  on  the 
academic  grounds,  "whence  all  but  he  had  fled,"  and  who 
rang  the  college  bell  every  hour,  although  it  called  only 
phantom  classes,  till  he  died.     Some  institutions  in  a  long 
life-and-death  struggle  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  sus 
tained  themselves  by  selling  part  of  their  grounds  for  other 
purposes  and  leasing  or  selling  some  of  their  buildings  for 
offices,  shops,  etc.     Some  institutions  not  too  far  apart  ef 
fected  more  or  less  revolutionary  devices  of  federation,  lay 
ing  aside  perhaps  with  much  inner  mortification  a  long- 
cherished  and  inveterate  spirit  of  rivalry  to  do  so.    Former 


70         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

heads  of  these  institutions  were  the  most  fortunate,  for 
they  were  especially  sought  as  promoters  and  propagan 
dists  by  the  larger  business  firms,  while  a  few  achieved  emi 
nent  success  in  methods  of  conducting  advertising  bureaus. 
Many  professors  opened  private  schools,  where  they  often 
grew  wealthy,  supplying  to  parents  of  means  the  demand 
for  training,  although  these  new  ventures  often  had  to 
encounter  not  only  opposition  but  occasionally  attack  from 
ex-teachers  whose  occupation  was  gone.  Once  not  only  all 
the  tangible  properties  of  these  institutions  had  been  ex 
empt  from  taxation  but  even  their  vested  funds.  This  was 
at  the  time  when  townships  had  vied  for  the  honor  and 
profit  of  having  them  founded  in  their  midst.  But  now 
the  government  exacted  its  highest  rate  of  taxation  for 
both  realty  and  funds  and  later  even  confiscated  their  en 
dowment  because  their  service  to  the  state  was  gone.  Their 
libraries  were  still  open  at  certain  hours,  but  little  visited 
and  poorly  manned.  Some  ot  them  were  sealed  under  or 
ders,  and  nearly  the  same  was  the  fate  of  the  museums. 
Scientific  apparatus  and  instruments  for  both  demonstra 
tion  and  research,  with  which  laboratories  had  been  so 
admirably  stocked,  were  auctioned;  some  found  its  way 
to,  and  use  in,  industrial  establishments,  and  some  of  it 
was  carefully  stored  and  in  a  few  generations  in  the  more 
ignorant  communities,  where  their  use  was  unknown  and 
forgotten,  became  objects  of  superstitious  and  fetishistic 
awe.  Letters  declined,  illiteracy  grew  apace,  till  the  guilds 
of  both  book-writers  and  printers  were  dissolved  and  the 
many  kinds  of  expertness  went  the  way  of  the  lost  arts  of 
our  antiquity.  Members  of  learned  societies  who  strug 
gled  to  keep  alive  the  traditions  of  the  past  grew  fewer, 
meetings,  more  infrequent,  and  their  proceedings  more 
largely  devoted  to  obituaries  of  members  who  had  died, 
for  most  of  these  Fellows  were  old  and  there  was  little 
new  blood  from  which  to  recruit  their  membership.  More 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  71 

and  more  often  the  work  of  all  experts  was  regarded  as  fu 
tile  and  fatuous.  In  some  places  they  were  often  regarded 
somewhat  as  radicals,  dangerous  to  the  established  order, 
so  that  their  sessions  and  even  their  existence  had  to  be 
secret. 

Thus  in  these  and  many  other  ways  ignorance  and  super 
stition  slowly  spread  their  dark  pall  over  the  land,  fold  on 
fold,  and  as  the  very  acme  of  pathos  even  the  records  of 
this  decline  flickered  and  went  out,  and  thus  perhaps  merci 
fully  to  those  who  ages  after  found  and  deciphered  these 
records  our  world  is  spared  the  last  act  of  the  greatest 
tragedy  in  all  the  story  of  human  culture.  If  the  glory  of 
learning  here  at  its  best  shames  our  age  into  a  sense  of  in 
feriority  by  contrast,  the  later  stages  may  well  make  us 
feel  exultant,  for  we  can  still  hearten  ourselves  with  a 
sense  of  our  progress,  and  we  may  safeguard  ourselves 
against  relapse  by  the  warnings  that  have  now  most  oppor 
tunely  come  up  to  us  from  out  of  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

VI 
THE  ZENITH  AND  NADIR  OF  RELIGION 

THE  religious  history  of  Atlantis  is  perhaps  most  unique 
of  all  to  our  age.  Full  as  are  the  records  here,  a  very  suc 
cinct  account  must  suffice.  The  entire  development  of  At 
lantis,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  remarkably  autoch 
thonous.  It  was  the  cunabula  of  man.  The  data  of  paleon 
tology  here  were  so  widespread  and  abundant  that  very 
early  in  their  history  the  Atlanteans  realized  that  man  had 
evolved  through  many  developmental  stages  and  through 
a  long  line  of  ancestry.  It  was  here,  in  fact,  that  man 
became  man  long  before  he  did  anywhere  else  in  the  world* 
No  Darwin  or  Haeckel  was  needed  to  antagonize  old  re 
ligious  dogma  in  order  that  man  might  read  his  title  clear 
to  a  pedigree  that  showed  that  he  had  sprung  from  anthro- 


72         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

poids,  lemurs,  amphioxus,  and  all  the  rest.     Every  one 
recognized,    too,   that   he   had   instincts  within   him  that 
pointed  clearly  to  a  long  stage  of  arboreal  life,  which  had 
made  a  paw  into  a  hand  and  oriented  him  up  and  down 
so  that  both  the  sky  and  earth  were  a  little  more  permeable 
to  fancy,  etc.     Indeed  everything  seemed  to  indicate  that 
here  all  the  stages  of  the  evolution  of  at  least  the  higher 
states  of  animal  life  had  been  more  rapid  than  elsewhere. 
The  pithecoid  fossils  were  found  in  older  strata  as  well  as 
in  vastly  greater  abundance,  so  that  the  stages  of  evolution 
that  we  have  had  to  work  out  so  laboriously  from  very 
fragmentary  remains  had  been  familiar  to  them  from  the 
first.    Here  the  diluvial  and  glacial  age  had  effaced  nothing 
save  in  the  northern  part  of  the  realm,  and  they  believed 
that  theirs  had  been  the  very  first  land  to  rise  permanently 
above  the  primeval  sea.    At  any  rate,  Atlantis  was  some 
what  unique  in  having  no  traditions  of  a  flood  save  such 
as  could  be  accounted  for  by  inundations  or  limited  sub- 
mergencies.    Thus  when  our  ancestors  had  been  troglodytes 
in  the  paleolithic  Neanderthal  stage,  the  Atlanteans  were 
well  on  the  way  to  civilization.    We  have  marveled  at  the 
similarity  between  the  dragons  of  folklore  and  the  remains 
of  the  great  saurians  of  the  Trias,  but  so  close  was  the  re 
semblance  between  the  two  Atlantean  myths  that  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  primitive  man  here  had  seen  with 
his  own  eyes  some  of  the  later  representatives  of  the  tita- 
notheres. 

Having  thus  before  them  so  early  in  the  history  in  the 
abundant  fossils  and  caves  the  fullest  history  Nature  ever 
kept  of  her  ascending  processes,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the 
Atlanteans  felt  themselves  uniquely  one  with  all  Nature, 
the  consummate  product  of  her  creative  evolution.  Hence 
the  first  being  worshiped  was  somewhat  akin  to  Durkheim's 
Mana,  or  a  vast,  vague  or  universal  being  and  power  suf 
fused  through  all  things  and  animating  all.  The  Hindu 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  73 

Om,  the  One  and  All  of  Parmenides,  the  Pure  Being  of  He 
gel  and  all  our  ontologists,  the  primeval  ether — all  these 
are  reminiscent  of  it.  It  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being  in 
all  things  and  is  at  the  same  time  nothing  and  everything, 
all  that  ever  was,  is,  or  can  be,  and  immeasurably  more 
than  even  this.  All  that  begins  comes  from  it,  and  all  that 
ceases  is  resolved  back  into  it,  while  it  never  began  and  can 
never  end.  Their  clumsy  words  for  it  no  more  compassed 
it  than  our  speech  can  do,  for  it  is  beyond  all  words  and 
thought  and  can  only  be  felt  as  that  on  which  all  depends. 
To  personify  it  is  idolatry;  yet  it  cannot  remain  unob- 
jectified,  but  must  have  some  symbol,  and  there  must  be 
more  of  it  in  some  things  than  in  others;  and  so  various 
tribes  came  to  regard,  some  one,  some  another,  object  or 
group  of  objects  as  its  favorite  incarnation.  Some  tribes 
saw  it  in  nearly  every  object  and  became  animistic ;  others 
found  it  in  some  rare,  curious,  or  weird  fetish;  others 
thought  it  best  expressed  in  the  vast  open  vault  of  the 
heavens  and  sky;  yet  others  in  the  sun,  moon,  or  stars. 
Some  saw  it  in  the  sea  or  stream  or  other  forms  of  water; 
some  in  fire,  clouds,  rain,  lightning,  storm.  Some,  in 
hills  and  rocks;  others,  in  trees  and  vegetable  forms.  Yet 
others  saw  its  best  embodiment  in  certain  animals,  and  still 
others,  perhaps  best  represented  by  humanity  or  some  in 
dividual  of  our  species.  All  had  their  own  rites  and  cere 
monials,  places,  and  forms  of  worship,  and  made  oblations, 
sacrifices,  and  prayers,  at  first  apotropaic  or  warning  their 
gods  to  go  away  and  later  inviting  their  presence  protec 
tion,  and  aid. 

In  the  vast  Atlantean  realm  almost  anything  was 
somewhere  made  an  object  of  awe  and  reverence,  if  not  of 
worship.  Even  the  many  deities  were  not  jealous  of  each 
other,  so  that  a  spirit  of  toleration  we  can  hardly  under 
stand  prevailed,  and  persecution  was  unknown  because  i1 
was  realized  that  all  cults  represented  normal  stages  of 


74    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

evolution,  which  had  its  most  perfect  and  plastic  cultural 
expression  in  the  ascending  stages  of  the  religious  con 
sciousness.  This  was  because  it  was  so  clearly  seen  that  the 
soul  no  less  than  the  body  was  evolved  from  primal  animal 
instincts  and  there  was  no  great  chasm  separating  Mansoul 
from  lower  manifestations  of  the  psyche  or  even  demarca 
ting  vital  from  physical  and  mechanical  energy.  There 
were,  of  course,  no  missionaries  intent  upon  soul-saving  by 
conversions  from  one  cult  and  faith  to  another,  but  only 
genetic  parturitionists  helping  those  able  and  disposed  to 
molt  old  forms  for  the  new  and  next  higher  always  present 
but  concealed  in  the  lower  and  revealed  in  the  higher,  all 
by  the  methods  of  evolution  and  not  revolution. 

It  was  realized  that,  e.g.,  all  must  pass  through,  and 
that  some  few  should  never  transcend  the  f etishistic  stage, 
and  so  the  cult  of  charms,  amulets,  relics,  mementoes,  col 
lections  of  objects,  and  especially  treasure,  culminating 
often  in  precious  stones,  and  finally  property  and  the  fasci 
nation  of  ownership  was  developed  to  its  uttermost  that  the 
best  and  most  might  be  made  of  it.  Thus  the  pedigree  of 
the  gold  lust  was  understood  and  also  its  limitations  by 
those  capable  of  a  higher  love  thus  symbolized. 

For  tree  worshipers,  woodmen,  and  foresters,  the  uni 
verse  was  described  in  arboreal  form.  The  stars  were  its 
fruits,  the  roots  held  the  world  together  and  progress  was 
ascent,  the  various  forms  of  life  were  its  leaves,  and  the 
awe  of  the  primeval  forest,  suggestive  of  groined  arches, 
was  connected  with  the  home  of  man's  pithecoid  ancestors, 
wherein  they  found  safety,  cultivated  curiosity  by  observ 
ing  the  prowling  beasts  below,  and  developed  dread  of  open 
spaces,  physical  or  mental,  and  all  the  gravity  or  geotropic 
orientations.  Here,  too,  all  climbing  and  winged  creatures 
found  a  welcome  abode,  and  there  was  protection  in 
branches  and  cadence  in  their  swaying,  all  of  which  sur 
vives  in  us  only  as  faint  esthetic  stirrings  but  which  was 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  75 

and  could  again  become  a  religion  instinct  with  a  vitality 
and  inspiration  all  its  own. 

So,  too,  water  in  its  three  forms  was  made  a  mythotheme. 
with  rites  and  a  philosophy  and  symbolism  which  to  the 
Atlanteans,  especially  those  on  the  smaller  adjacent  islands, 
was  particularly  attractive.  They  all  knew  that  their  land 
had  risen  from  the  sea,  and  it  was  not  their  navigators 
alone  that  felt  the  charm  and  mystery  of  its  many  moods 
and  voices.  The  sun  was  a  ball  of  the  most  subtle  and  fiery 
ether,  secreted  each  day  anew  from  the  earth  and  sea  and 
akin  to  the  fires  in  the  heart  of  the  earth  on  which  they 
had  learned  to  draw.  Thus  it  was  here  taught  that  man 
should  ever  sublimate  the  highest  from  the  lowest  and  most 
material  in  his  soul.  The  earth  came  from  the  sun,  which 
supplies  all  its  energy,  and  as  it  conquers  the  cloud  and 
storm  demons,  piercing  them  with  its  darting  rays,  so  we 
must  conquer  sin  and  ignorance.  Fire-worship  was  akin 
to  that  of  the  sun,  for  fire  refines  and  distills  an  ethereal 
element  that  soars  upward  toward  the  gods  and  leaves 
only  dross  and  ash  behind.  It  stands,  too,  for  the  ardor  of 
love.  Its  control  marked  a  great  step  upward  in  human 
progress,  and  at  a  certain  stage  all  the  deeper  religious 
instincts  are  connected  with  it  and  dependence  may  well 
be  directed  toward,  and  elevated  by  it.  Limited  as  the 
thermal  scale  of  life  is,  this  scale  stretches  up  and  down 
indefinitely,  and  thus  we  are  in  a  sense  children  of  fire  and 
light. 

Animals  are  our  elder  brothers  and  are  far  better  adapted 
to  their  conditions  than  man  has  yet  learned  to  be.  They 
have  taught  him  many  arts,  and  the  lives  of  many  of  them 
are  full  of  morals  for  man  as  the  animal  epos  here,  which 
was  very  highly  developed,  abundantly  shows.  Many  spe 
cies  are  our  direct  ancestors  and  all  are  our  cousins.  Man 
needs  their  strength,  keenness  of  sense,  power  of  flight,  as 
well  as  their  hides  and  flesh.  Each  ascending  order  was 


76    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

once  a  lord  of  creation,  till  at  last  man  became  their  leader. 
Medicine  and  hygiene  were  largely  the  products  of  experi 
ments  upon  them.  Even  now  all  their  wisdom  and  industry 
combined  could  perhaps  surpass  that  of  man.  They  are  our 
totemic  ancestors  and  natural  objects  of  fear  and  love, 
and  great  educators  of  these  sentiments  in  us.  Many  spe 
cies  of  them  were  given  statues  and  a  few,  temples  and 
services  in  their  honor.  Great  individuals  among  them 
were  on  their  way  up  and  bad  men  on  the  way  down  the 
ladder  of  transmigration.  Some  species,  it  was  held,  were 
simply  degenerate  men  atoning  for  the  sins  of  their  for 
mer  lives  and  working  their  way  laboriously  up  to  hu 
manity.  Some  few  were  held  to  be  deities  incarnated  in 
this  form  by  their  own  choice.  Many  individuals  of 
many  species  had  been  not  merely  domesticated  but  edu 
cated  by  the  aid  of  selective  breeding  to  a  degree  of  intelli 
gence  far  beyond  anything  we  know  in  our  beast  world,  so 
that  they  made  not  merely  valued  servants  but  companions 
of  man.  Particularly  was  this  true  of  the  ape,  horse,  dog, 
eagle,  parrot,  and  some  of  the  larger  felidae,  while  many 
families  were  proud  to  bear  animal  names.  Thus  theromor- 
phic  forms  seemed  to  many  the  best  embodiments  of  the  uni 
versal  M ana  principle,  and  the  chief  traits  of  their  char 
acter  and  the  activities  of  their  lives  were  set  forth  in  the 
ancient  and  ever  reedited  and  relibrettoed  symbolic  sacred 
dances  near  the  shrines  where  they  were  adored.  Highest 
and  latest  here,  of  course,  were  the  anthropomorphic  cults, 
and  the  chief  trait  of  all  these  deities  was  that  they  died 
in  agony  and  arose  in  splendor,  as  vegetation  dies  in  the 
fall  and  arises  in  the  spring,  or  as  the  sun  daily  yields  to 
night  in  the  west  and  conquers  it  in  the  east.  In  Atlan 
tis  it  was  these  cults  that  slowly  gained  the  ascendancy 
over  others,  especially  for  the  mature  and  intelligent. 
These  god-men  were  all  of  superior  size,  strength,  beauty, 
grace,  and  compelling  magnetic  personality.  All  devoted 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  77 

themselves  with  abandon  to  the  elevation  of  mankind,  and 
at  first,  with  success.  Later  in  their  career  their  develop 
ment  outstripped  that  of  their  fellow-men  and  often  even 
all  their  most  esoteric  followers.  When  the  tide  turned, 
they  were  ridiculed,  buffeted,  betrayed,  suffered  every 
physical  torture  and  mental  indignity  in  the  whole  litany 
of  human  woes,  and  at  last  were  cruelly  slain  and  died 
in  utter  despair,  not  only  with  no  hope  for,  or  belief  in, 
another  world  or  life,  but  convinced  of  the  absolute  folly 
and  error  of  all  their  ideals  and  endeavors,  and  realizing 
that  they  were  utterly  forsaken  by  man  and  that  there  was 
to  be  no  sequel.  The  latter,  however,  always  came,  but 
always  and  only  in  the  minds  of  their  followers  who  by 
the  eternal  law  of  human  nature  had  to  react  from  the 
extreme  of  depression  to  that  of  elation.  Thus  the  love  and 
early  devotion  of  their  disciples  reasserted  itself  in  the 
fondest  creations  of  their  imaginations  and  all  these  super 
men  arose  from  the  dead,  some  sooner,  some  later,  and 
were  transfigured  in  splendor  to  lead  mankind  as  realized 
ideals  upward  and  onward  in  his  course.  Those  who  prac 
ticed  these  cults  had  chiefly  to  rise  and  die  again,  not  liter 
ally,  but  in  a  proxy,  vicarious  way  and  as  really  as  their 
imaginations  surcharged  with  sympathetic  emotion  could 
make  possible.  This  exercise  was  regarded  as  the  chief  in 
itiation  into  life  because  this  fictive  experience  was  an  im 
munity  bath  against  being  permanently  depressed  by  any, 
or  all,  ills  of  life  or  abnormally  exalted  by  good  fortune, 
and  it  symbolized  the  subordination  of  self  to  the  service 
of  the  race.  All  this  gave  a  psychic  unity  as  well  as  elas 
ticity  and  rebound,  because  if  our  psyche  splits  or  dualizes 
at  all,  it  is  into  a  pleasure  versus  pain  consciousness,  and 
this  experience  makes  each  state  amenable  to  and  certain  to 
react  into  the  other.  Indeed,  every  Atlantean  religion  re 
quired  its  youth  to  be  thus  inducted  into  life  by  a  curricu 
lum  of  hardships  and  pain,  hunger,  exposure  and  anxiety, 


78         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

to  be  followed  by  release,  joy,  feasting,  and  exhilaration, 
as  indeed  every  novel  and  drama  requires  of  its  hero.  This 
arms  the  soul  against  depression  and  discouragement,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  dangers  of  too  much  pleasure,  on  the 
other,  and  makes  it  mobile  as  it  should  be,  up  and  down 
the  algedonic  scale. 

In  early  Atlantean  days  there  were  no  priests  in  our 
sense  presiding  over  magic  formulae  or  invested  with  super 
natural  sanctions,  but  only  "heart-formers,"  trained  in  a 
college  created  to  equip  men  and  women  for  special  work 
with  school  children  and  youth  half  a  day  in  every  seven. 
Here  they  were  taught,  as  they  advanced,  a  carefully  con 
sidered  course  of  fetishism,  totemism,  sun,  rock,  and  moun 
tain  worship,  followed  by  that  of  the  moon,  sun,  planets, 
and  stars,  leading  up  to  that  of  the  infinite  ethereal  vault. 
Then  came  cults  of  Mother  Earth,  sea,  water,  cloud,  fire, 
and  lightning,  herbage,  trees,  and  finally  of  man  himself 
idealized  and  more  or  less  totemized.  Each  cult  had  its 
myths,  legends,  rites,  processionals,  dances,  and  its  col 
lection  of  objects  deemed  sacred,  and  its  paraphernalia, 
with  appropriate  hymns,  in  order  to  develop  poetic  atti 
tudes  and  interests  in  nature  recapitulating  that  of  the 
race.  Thus,  each  cult  had,  too,  in  a  sense,  a  bible  of  its  own. 
Great  stress  was  laid  in  bringing  home  impressively  the 
lives  and  achievements  of  all  great  religious  organizers  and 
leaders  of  mankind,  and  all  the  days  of  all  the  weeks  of  the 
year  were  named  after  these ;  what  corresponds  to  our  Sab 
bath  deriving  its  name  from  a  man  preeminent  for  religious 
insight  and  pioneering.  Each  day  at  school  was  opened 
by  a  brief  account  and  uplift  lesson  from  the  life  of  some 
one  of  these  great  and  holy  ones,  and  they  finally  became 
so  many  that  it  was  decided  to  have  a  two-year  cycle  of  730 
days  in  order  to  give  them  all  place  in  the  calendar.  At 
the  end  of  this  course  each  could  choose  his  cult  from  among 
them  all  or  could  neglect  all.  In  this  field  there  was  no 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  79 

drill,  memorization,  or  examination  required,  but  all  these 
were  provided  for  those  who  desired.  Some  eventually 
chose  to  revere  one,  some  several,  and  yet  other  some  no 
deity,  realizing  that  all  were  only  symbols,  incarnations,  or 
guides  to  Hand.  Malignant  deities,  though  often  believed 
in,  were  never  recognized  by  the  ''heart-formers,"  and  all 
superstitions  in  this  domain  were  regarded  as  simply  exces 
sive  belief,  and  never  antagonized,  but  more  or  less  re 
spected  and  tenderly  treated  till  better  forms  of  expressing 
the  ideals  and  sentiments  they  embodied  had  been  pro 
vided,  so  thaf  growth  might  be  normal  and  without  any 
abatement  of  the  ardor  of  faith.  In  children  and  youth 
superstitions  were  regarded  rather  as  rank  weeds  indica 
tive  of  the  richness  of  the  soil.  One  or  another  cult  was 
often  advised  or  prescribed  to  individuals,  either  as  a 
therapy  or  as  best  fitted  to  regulate  life  with  their  peculiar 
temperament  and  circumstance,  or  as  we  are  now  beginning 
to  prescribe  philosophies,  to  fit  diatheses  or  correct  defi 
ciencies.  To  these  " heart-formers"  all,  old  and  young, 
were  encouraged  to  go  or  were  sent  for  all  kinds  of  moral 
perversities — one  because  he  was  getting  proud,  another 
wealthy,  another  cruel,  others  dishonest,  licentious,  lazy, 
selfish,  etc.  They  came  to  these  to  be  straightened  as  men 
in  our  era  go  to  doctors  to  be  physically  inspected. 

Not  only  was  all  conflict  between  science  and  religion 
unheard  of,  but  there  was  no  dogma  and  no  question  as 
to  the  historicity  of  religious  founders  any  more  than  we 
care  whether  Hamlet  or  Don  Quixote  or  "William  Tell  were 
real  personages,  for  the  pragmatic  value  of  all  these  lives, 
which  is  the  central  one,  lies  in  their  esthetic  and  moral 
effects,  since  the  supreme  criterion  in  this  field  is  not  truth 
but  goodness,  all  but  the  good  being  false.  Thus  all, 
whether  narratives,  philosophy,  or  apologue  that  worked 
well,  was,  some  more,  some  less,  sacred  and  inspired,  so 
that  the  only  canon  of  Holy  Writ  was  the  changing  one 


80         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

which  the  consensus  of  the  competent  deemed  of  most 
worth.  All  their  theology  was  the  higher  psychology  of 
the  f  olksoul  as  it  groped  its  way  upward,  choosing  the  right 
and  avoiding  the  evil  and  projecting  its  great  creations  on 
the  sky  or  in  the  hearts  of  men.  Practically  men  were  ac 
counted  religious  in  Atlantis  if  they  were  truly  altruistic 
and  not  predominantly  self-seeking,  and  all  here  were 
taught  to  die  cheerfully,  contemplating  the  good  they  had 
done. 

As  to  a  future  life  there  were  all  views.  Some  believed  in 
ghosts,  even  revenient  ones;  others,  that  sometime,  some 
where,  somehow,  personal  identity  would  be  continued  be 
yond  the  grave,  but  shrank  from  definiteness  or  even  proof 
here  lest  the  imagery  that  satisfied  the  heart  be  faulty  and 
if  all  were  staked  on  proof  it  would  expose  their  fond  hope 
to  the  possibility  of  disproof.  Some  held  to  a  hereafter 
with  rewards  and  punishments  in  another  world  and  in 
sisted  that  justice  demanded  nothing  less.  Yet  others 
held  that  good  was  its  own  reward  and  evil  its  own  punish 
ment.  Very  many  held  that  man's  ultimate  fate  was  ab 
sorption  into  Mana  and  that  this  was  the  goal  supreme  to 
be  desired,  for  it  was  not  only  surcease  from  care  and  striv 
ing,  but  a  homecoming  of  man  to  his  origin.  To  make  per 
sonal  happiness  hereafter  the  motive  of  this  life  was  deemed 
vulgar,  transcendental  selfishness.  In  short,  for  the  Atlan- 
teans  life  here  was  so  rich  and  so  prolonged  that  most  had 
no  very  active  wish  to  live  again  and  there  was  no  thanato- 
phobia  or  morbid  dread  of  death  as  with  man  to-day,  who 
an  the  average  is  cut  off  in  his  prime,  while  so  many  suffer 
a  kind  of  Herodian  slaughter  that  real  senescence,  with  its 
great  and  growing  life  weariness,  weanings,  and  nepenthes, 
has  become  for  us  almost  unknown.  All  shades  of  these 
beliefs  were  found,  but  there  was  no  disputing  about  them, 
for  they  were  regarded  as  matters  of  individual  intellectual 
taste,  or  perhaps  idiosyncrasy.  Thus  it  is  plain  that  there 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  81 

was  no  such  thing  as  an  established  orthodoxy,  or  even  pre 
vailing  standards  of  belief.  1 '  One  world  at  a  time  and  this 
one  now,"  was  a  phrase  often  heard.  It  almost  seemed 
as  though  each  had  his  own  creed,  or  a  variant  of  one,  or  else 
none  at  all,  and  each  believed  in  one,  many,  or  no  gods,  and 
observed  sacred  days  and  services  or  not,  as  he  felt  in 
clined.  Thus  in  the  same  family  it  often  occurred  that  the 
children  were  crass  fetishists,  the  parents  honored  the  great 
nature  deities,  and  the  grandparents  held  that  all  gods* 
were  mere  idols  symbolic  of  the  one  universal  principle,  or 
else  projections  of  man  himself  or  fictive  agents  of  his 
wishes,  recognizing  the  persistency  of  the  tendency  of  our 
soul  to  personate  the  manifold  activities  of  the  infinite  One 
and  All  from  which  the  worlds  came  and  into  which  they 
return. 

The  "heart-formers"  were  intent  only  that  there  be  as 
many  and  diverse  expressions  of  the  religious  instinct  as 
possible,  in  order  that  all  human  capabilities  and  inclina 
tions  might  be  appealed  to,  and  these  guides  felt  that 
should  they  become  proselytes  to  the  views  they  preferred, 
they  would  have  been  false  to  their  trust  and  would  have 
acted  as  if  man  were  made  for  religion  rather  than,  con 
versely,  religions  for  man.  No  one  believed  that  there  was 
any  religion,  cult,  or  faith  that  was  best  for  all.  As  a  re 
sult  of  this  sentiment  very  few  Atlanteans  were  without 
religion  of  some  kind,  and  no  one  was  ever  heard  of  who 
denounced  or  repudiated  them  all. 

The  "heart-formers,"  besides  their  stated  functions  above 
indicated  with  the  young,  diverged  as  time  went  on  into 
many  special  forms  of  activity.  Some  kept  open  hours  for 
something  not  unlike  our  confessional  at  its  best.  Those 
with  sore  or  perverted  consciences  came  to  have  them 
soothed  or  straightened.  Those  with  bad  habits  came  here 
for  cure ;  those  with  morbid  ideas  came  to  be  analyzed  and 
guided  in  the  pathway  of  life  as  Virgil  led  Dante.  Some 


82         RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

became  advisers  in  the  moral  problems  connected  with  busi 
ness,  not  scrupling  to  visit  and  reprove  those  guilty  of 
practices  unjust  and  harmful  to  the  morale  of  the  com 
munity.  Some  gave  experienced  and  expert  counsel  to  those 
intending  wedlock,  or  were  often  called  upon  to  solve  peac- 
ably  intricate  and  difficult  marital  problems.  Yet  others 
recited  the  great  deeds  of  heroes  of  the  past  and  the  pres 
ent  at  the  festivals  and  told  in  epic  elevation  the  thrilling 
romances  of  these  and  of  the  epoch-makers  in  religion,  su 
pervised  dramatic  presentations  of  such  themes  at  the  great 
festivals,  and  thus  kept  alive  and  pure  the  great  traditions 
of  the  past.  Some  became  very  expert  in  what  we  should 
call  professional  arbitration,  before  there  were  any  formal 
judges,  and  after  their  fall  as  above  described,  passed  upon 
all  kinds  of  personal  disagreements,  and  these  men  were 
skilled  in  the  use  of  ancient  maxims  and  precedents  from 
the  most  revered  legends  of  the  race.  Some  visited  the  sick 
and  afflicted  and  sought  to  administer  not  only  consolation 
but  mental  healing  and  even  material  relief. 

The  "heart-formers"  did  their  best  and  most  intensive 
work  with  pubescents  and  early  adolescents,  when  more  time 
was  given  to  them.  Each  boy  by  the  male  and  each  girl 
by  the  female  ' 'formers'*  was  formally  and  progressively 
told  the  sacred  mysteries  of  sex  personally  as  his  and  her 
own  powers  of  mind  and  body  grew  and  as  need  arose,  so 
that  none  was  surprised  by  the  development  of  normal 
processes.  Anatomy,  physiology,  hygiene,  and  pathology 
were  judiciously  drawn  upon,  and  the  responsibility  to 
transmit  the  holy  torch  of  life  undimmed  to  the  innumer 
able  unborn  was  set  forth  as  the  chief  end  of  life.  Every 
thing  became  of  supreme  value  only  when,  and  in  the  de 
gree  in  which,  it  took  hold  on  that  most  ancient  wealth  and 
worth,  heredity,  and  nothing  was  truly  acquired  until  it 
had  sunk  so  deep  as  to  make  parenthood  more  effective 
even  for  those  who  did  not  live  to  see  their  offspring  born. 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  83 

Here  self-control  must  be  rigorous  for  the  probationary 
years  before  maturity  was  attained.  There  must  be  no 
feeble  and  paltering  concession  to  the  clamor  of  the  flesh. 
In  aid  of  this  new  self-knowledge,  self-reverence,  and  self- 
control  regimen  was  now  hardy  and  robeorous.  Athleticism 
was  cultivated  to  develop  every  part  and  function  of  the 
body  to  its  uttermost  and  mental  work  must  occasionally 
be  by  intense  calentures,  and  the  resources  of  the  second- 
breath  that  draws  upon  residual  and  racial  possibilities  at 
will,  or  what  some  of  us  now  call  the  adrenalin  diathesis, 
was  fostered  with  great  care,  because  it  was  clearly  seen 
that  every  zest  and  interest  in  every  field  in  any  degree  set 
a  backfire  to  lust ;  while  at  the  same  time  the  spirit  of  nil 
admirari  and  inertia  of  mind,  which  is  the  result  of  a  life 
of  drill  and  routine,  directly  enhances  temptation  and 
weakens  resistance  to  it.  Each  must  thus  have  some  muse 
and  cultivate  and  develop  a  regimen  of  inspiration.  Thus, 
for  a  few  years  everything  must  serve  the  purposes  of  sub 
limation  of  the  crude  sex  impulse  and  tend  to  long-circuit 
or  vicariate  for  it,  like  secondary  sexual  traits  in  animals, 
who  are  our  models  in  this  respect.  Calentures  and  ereth 
isms  there  must  be,  and  the  all-important  problem  is  to 
direct  this  most  plastic  and  metamorphic  tendency  upward 
and  not  allow  it  to  grovel. 

Hardship,  fatigue,  plain  living,  enthusiasms,  activity, 
and  cleanliness  were  preliminary  training  to  the  solemn  and 
festal  initiation  which  now  began  with  the  sacred  right  of 
circumcision.  Then  followed  a  fast  of  two  days  with  iso 
lation  and  solitude  day  and  night  close  to  Nature,  during 
which  each  was  supposed  to  have  some  significant  dream  or 
vision,  to  the  interpretation  of  which  great  care  was  given. 
Many  here  first  found  or  met  their  goru,  or  double,  formed 
ideals,  made  resolutions,  etc.  These  doubles  often  became 
a  kind  of  protective  presence  which  attended  individuals 
through  life,  approving  or  reproving,  and  occasionally  ap- 


84    RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

pearing  in  imaginal  forms  at  critical  moments.  Then  came 
the  initiation  proper,  which  took  various  forms  in  various 
provinces.  It  had  certain  general  features  always  and 
everywhere  essentially  the  same.  The  novitiate,  or  candi 
date  for  adulthood,  always  died  and  was  entombed,  some 
times  almost  literally  and  sometimes  more  symbolically, 
heard  a  funereal  estimate  of  his  good  and  bad  traits  and 
what  each  tended  to  make  him,  and  thus  realized  the  vir 
tues  he  might  attain  or  the  evil  ways  in  which  he  was 
liable  to  stray.  First  there  was  darkness  and  gloom,  with 
dirge-like  music,  chants,  and  misereres,  and  even  mourn 
ing  by  parents  and  friends;  then  a  period  of  silence  and 
isolation  again.  Then  after  an  interval  more  or  less  pro 
longed,  according  to  the  temper  and  needs  of  each,  lights 
were  gradually  seen  and  springtide  pastoral  strains  were 
faintly  and  then  more  loudly  heard.  The  symbolic  tomt, 
opened  and  the  youth  or  maiden  stepped  forth,  shed  his  o* 
her  shroud,  and  was  clad  in  festal  attire,  and  there  was 
joy,  feasting,  and  festive  dancing.  A  symbolic  mark  was 
branded  or  tattoed  upon  the  breast  like  an  individual  totem, 
and  this  was  followed  by  often  very  prolonged  initiation 
ceremonies  into  all  the  larger  life  of  the  community.  With 
this  the  resurrection  program  terminated.  Henceforth 
youth  which  had  been  served  must  serve.  This  new  life  of 
altruism  was  now  consecrated  to  the  gens.  Childish  ac- 
couterments,  plays,  and  ways  were  put  aside,  although  some 
old  and  cherished  toys  and  treasures  were  commonly,  and 
sometimes  had  to  be,  preserved,  and  these  might  later  be 
given  to  friends  as  a  mark  of  the  very  closest  personal 
bonds,  for  the  day  of  manhood  and  womanhood  had  now 
dawned.  Fathers  assumed  new  duties  to  their  sons  and 
mothers  to  their  daughters  and  talked  on  all  matters  in 
which  they  were  personally  interested,  with  none  of  the 
previous  reserves,  because  with  the  majority  now  and  thus 
attained  each  youth  became  a  corporate  member  of  the  com-- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  85 

nranity  and  of  the  state  and  acquired  new  rights  and  far 
more  new  duties.  Each,  too,  was  given  some  special  re 
sponsibility  for  a  younger  child  of  the  same  sex,  like  our 
"big  brother"  or  "sister"  function,  and  each  in  turn  was 
given,  or  was  allowed  to  choose,  some  older  person  outside 
his  family  as  a  kind  of  guardian  or  godparent  who  watched 
over  him  in  a  general  way  and  to  whom  he  could  turn  for 
counsel  in  every  emergency.  The  friendships  thus  estab 
lished  between  old  and  young  constituted  a  unique  bond, 
one  of  the  virtues  of  which  was  that  it  incited  both  master 
and  ward  to  do  nothing  that  the  other  could  deem  un 
worthy.  The  older  members  of  this  triad  must  always  set 
good  examples,  and  the  younger  must  always  emulate  them. 
Only  the  "heart-formers"  were  allowed  thus  to  adopt  more 
than  one  ward,  and  the  favorite  among  these  often  had 
many;  but  no  man  of  any  repute  lacked  one,  and  he  was 
in  honor  bound,  however  pressing  his  other  duties,  not  to 
neglect  this,  and  was  held  accountable  if  anything  pre 
ventable  went  seriously  amiss  with  his  counselorship. 
These  homosexual  friendships  never  degenerated  here  as 
they  did  in  ancient  Greece.  Indeed  so  pure  were  they 
kept  that  it  was  often  suggested  that  budding  girls,  be 
sides  their  female,  have  a  male,  and  boys  also  a  female  ad 
viser,  but  the  records  so  far  deciphered  do  not  show  that 
this  plan  was  ever  systematically  put  into  practice,  al 
though  in  sporadic  cases  it  was  adopted  and  seems  to  have 
worked  well,  especially  after  wedlock,  when  fathers-in-law 
and  mothers-in-law  were  often  inclined  to  assume  this  func 
tion,  sometimes  with,  and  sometimes  without,  the  full  con 
sent  of  the  younger  member  of  the  triad. 

The  age  of  thirty  was  the  normal  and  most  frequent  age 
of  marriage  for  men  and  twenty-one  for  women.  If  at 
thirty-five  a  man,  or  at  twenty-five  a  woman,  remained  un 
wed  and  was  held  well  and  competent,  they  began  to  be 
regarded  with  suspicion  as  perhaps  addicted  to  secret  vice 


86        RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

or  at  least  as  slackers,  were  admonished  and  required  to 
show  cause,  and  if  they  persisted,  were  finally  assigned  spe 
cial  and  compulsory  duties  and  progressively  taxed  to  atone 
for  their  recreancy.  Wedlock  at  this  epoch  was  always  sol 
emnized  by  the  ' '  heart-formers, ' 7  who  regulated  all  the  pre 
liminaries  and  were  in  a  sense  held  responsible  for  pre 
venting  unwise  matings.  They,  too,  alone  had  power  to 
divorce  if  this  seemed,  all  things  considered,  wise,  and  to 
negotiate  the  terms  of  separation.  They  also  saw  to  it  that 
cases  of  bastardy,  rare  as  it  was  in  this  chaste  race  until 
its  civilization  began  to  totter  toward  its  fall,  were  penal 
ized  by  making  public  the  name  of  the  father  and  requiring 
him  to  support  his  child  and  its  mother  till  the  age  of 
adolescent  initiation. 

So  closely  associated  were  esthetics  and  true  piety  that 
all  great  art  in  Atlantis  was  religious  in  the  broad  sense  in 
which  the  latter  was  interpreted,  for  beauty  and  goodness 
in  their  essence  were  always  deemed  one  and  inseparable. 
Hence  the  productions  of  the  painter,  musician,  poet,  sculp 
tor,  architect,  storywright,  and  dramatist  were  considered 
classic  or  vulgar  in  proportion  as  they  ministered  to  the 
elevation  and  strengthening  of  the  lofty  sentiments  of 
which  religion  is  the  root.  Thus,  there  was  little  room  for 
art  censorship,  but  when  it  was  necessary  it  was  merciless 
and  effective.  In  many  provinces  and  diverse  climes  and 
races  of  Atlantis  there  were  endless  varieties  of  local  color, 
diversity  of  dress,  fates,  traditions,  etc.,  just,  as  we  have 
seen,  there  were  many  religions,  so  that  art  here  had  both 
a  wide  field  and  the  purest,  strongest,  and  most  inexhausti 
ble  wealth  of  incentives  and  materials  on  which  to  draw. 
The  training  of  the  Atlanteans  gave  them  a  rare  facility, 
which  we  have  almost  entirely  lost,  of  seizing,  and  holding 
to,  the  new  and  at  the  same  time  of  clinging  with  tenacity 
to  the  old.  Hence  progressive  as  they  were,  they  adhered 
tenaciously  to  the  old  ways  to  which  they  could  find  re- 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  87 

course  when  they  were  impelled  to  retreat  for  a  time  from 
hard  and  stern  present  reality,  to  master  which  meant  prog 
ress  versus  relapse  toward  the  easy  ways  of  their  own  child 
hood  and  that  of  the  race.  This  made  them  almost  pas 
sionate  lovers  of  the  naive,  of  which  childhood  is  the  best 
paradigm  and  exemplar,  and  thus  they  remained  peculiarly 
sensitized  to  every  manifestation  of  the  spontaneity  and 
creativeness  which  is  the  sign  manual  of  the  true  artist. 
Nearly  every  aspect  of  nature  and  of  human  life,  and  all 
the  great  achievements  and  accomplishments  of  man  thus 
had  their  artists  with  pen,  pencil,  brush,  chisel,  builder's 
square,  and  plummet,  but  the  mere  copyist  they  held  to  be 
a  shallow  tyro  intent  on  merely  exhibiting  his  skill  and 
lacking  all  tonic  quality  and  morale,  and  failing  utterly  to 
humanize  nature.  They  had  no  prudery  regarding  nudity, 
if  only  it  had  a  rctison  d'etre,  or  made  a  moral  appeal,  but 
banished  as  vulgar  and  meretricious  everything  of  this  kind 
which  taught  no  lesson.  Of  art  for  art's  sake  they  knew 
nothing.  Thus  impressionists,  cubists,  and  ultra-realists 
were  to  them  quaint  and  curious,  but  essentially  childish  in 
their  appeal.  From  all  we  so  far  know  the  Atlanteans  must 
have  been  much  more  eminent  in  art  than  any  race  of  our 
era,  excelling  us  perhaps  even  more  here  than  in  any  other 
field,  but  the  chief  trait  and  probably  the  chief  cause  of 
this  preeminence  was  the  fact  that  art  had  been  up  to  the 
very  acme  of  its  influence  strictly  in  the  service  of  religion 
and  morale.  But  the  details  of  this,  too,  we  must  leave  for 
a  later,  and  more  special,  publication,  and  only  sketch  the 
cause  of  the  decline  from  this  high  estate. 

This  began  with  the  demand  for  a  textus  receptus  or 
catalogue  and  canon  in  authorized  version  of  the  best  litera 
ture  in  this  wide  field.  The  best  must  be  formally  gath 
ered,  edited,  set  apart,  made  intact,  and  transmitted  as 
authoritative  and  final.  This  collection  must  be  given  a 
magic  origin  and  character  which  sets  it  apart  from,  and 


88         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

above,  all  other  creations  of  man  in  this  field.  Indeed,  it 
must  be  ascribed  to  the  authenticity  of  a  divine  being  and 
be  fabled  to  have  come  down  from,  and  been  revealed  by, 
Heaven  itself.  This  collection  must  become  the  book  fetish, 
the  supreme  object  of  a  bibliolatry  unknown  before.  Thus 
a  college  of  wise  men  set  about  collecting,  compiling,  some 
times  themselves  writing,  rejecting,  unifying,  and  elimi 
nating  inconsistencies,  but  in  general  accepting  as  they 
stood  a  few  of  the  older  texts,  and  giving  out  that  in  this 
work  they  were  supernaturally  guided  in  their  inclusions 
and  exclusions.  In  this  way  they  evolved  a  library  made 
up  of  smaller  and  larger  works,  and  came  to  believe  that 
•when  their  own  work  was  complete  the  age  of  inspiration 
had  closed  forever,  so  that  nothing  more  could  be  added. 
"This  and  only  this,  thus  and  only  thus  spake  the  gods, 
who  would  henceforth  remain  forever  mute."  The  pro 
ductions  thus  edited,  agreed  on,  and  adopted,  were  said  to 
contain  all  the  essential  things  that  man  needed  to  know 
or  do.  It  was  multiplied  by  every  scribal  art  and  elegantly 
copied  by  experts  who  devoted  their  lives  to  this  work;  it 
was  later  reproduced  in  thousands  of  forms,  bound  in  one 
massive,  or  many  smaller,  volumes ;  it  was  elaborately  com 
mented  on  and  concordances  of  every  word  and  phrase  were 
made;  it  was  put  into  every  known  tongue,  and  interpre 
ters  of  it  were  trained  who  had  to  vow  that  they  would 
defend  its  every  clause  and  perhaps  know  no  other  book. 
To  its  texts  magic  power  was  sometimes  ascribed  to  exor 
cise,  heal,  convert,  or  they  were  thought  to  work  miracles, 
and  occasionally  even  the  very  form  of  its  letters  were 
thought  surcharged  with  mystic  meanings  inscrutable  save 
to  the  elect.  To  injure  or  defile  it  was  a  crime ;  to  doubt  it, 
blasphemy;  and  in  all  these  ways  it  was  sought  to  make 
it  the  only  rule  of  faith  and  practice.  Organized  leaders, 
with  minds  subtle  by  nature  and  trained  for  this  purpose, 
expounded,  explained,  compared,  and  found  hidden  mean- 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  89 

ing  in  what  was  obvious.  Corporations  grew  rich  publish 
ing  and  diffusing  it,  sending  their  agents  to  insist  that 
every  household  and  every  individual,  old  and  young,  own 
it.  All  must  study  it,  perhaps  read  it  yearly,  memorizing 
sentences  from  it.  It  was  often  invested  with  talismanic 
power;  crude  tongues  were  given  consistency  and  stability 
by  having  it  translated  into  them,  and  there  were  occa 
sionally  weak-souled  bibliomaniacs  who  carried  it  always 
about  with  them  as  a  sacred  charm  to  ward  off  all  evils.  It 
was  said  thus  to  have  stopped  bullets  in  battle  on  their 
way  to  the  heart,  and  there  were  many  fanatics  who  talked 
almost  exclusively  in  its  idioms  and  applied  it  in  and  out 
of  season  to  all  happenings  large  and  small  in  the  life 
abdut  them,  sometimes  launching  its  imprecations  against 
those  who  sought  to  moderate  their  railings. 

This  had  hardly  been  accomplished  before  it  was  felt 
needful  to  draw  up  on  the  basis  of  these  scriptures  a  set  of 
creeds  or  a  body  of  holy  doctrine.  Over  the  former,  At- 
lantean  councils  and  houses  of  delegates  for  several  genera 
tions  had  argued  but  could  not  agree,  and  so  several  came 
into  vogue.  These  were  supposed  to  embody  the  essential 
verity  itself  for  all  time,  and  each  demanded  universal 
and  unreserved  assent ;  while  the  body  of  doctrine  was  left, 
to  be  formulated  by  great  scholiarchs  as  each  saw  the 
truth.  Like  the  chosen  canon  all  the  creed-makers  had 
repudiated  all  but  the  anthropomorphic  faiths.  The  infinite 
power  that  made  and  sustains  all  was  thus  cast  into  the 
form  of  a  human  personality,  despite  all  the  limitationa 
this  must  always  involve.  Instead  of  many  there  must  now 
be  only  one  deity,  and  all  others  were  either  diabolized  or 
condemned  to  extinction.  This  one  supreme  personality 
which  man  had  evolved  was  now  conceived  as  preexisting 
from  eternity,  as  having  all  possible  power  and  knowledge, 
as  infallible  and  unchanging,  just  and  terrible  in  his  judg 
ments,  a  bitter  hater  of  all  rival  cults  and  gods  and  intent 


90         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

upon  their  extermination.    His  altars  reeked  with  the  blood 
and  smoke  of  sacrificial  victims ;  yet  his  supreme  claim  to 
reverence  was  his  inexorable  and  pitiless  sense  of  justice 
from  which  he  never  swerved.    No  one  had  ever  seen  him 
and  lived,  and  although  he  filled  immensity,  he  could  and 
sometimes  did  take  visible  form,  although  it  was  a  sacri 
lege  to  represent  him  in  art  save  by  some  mystic  symbolism. 
This  impossible  and  inconceivable  being  with  all  these  con 
tradictory  attributes  existed  alone  for  eons  beyond  number, 
but  at  length  grew  weary  of  solitude  and  so  created  or 
secreted   the    universe    and    stellar   world,    which   slowly 
evolved  through  long  ages  till  at  last  on  this  man  appeared, 
groping  his  way  upward  in  the  dim  light  of  reason.    Na 
tions  arose  and  perished  in  the  wide  confines  of  the  Atlan- 
tean  continent.    Men  grew  sordid  and  selfish  and  the  ineffa 
ble  one  grew  wroth  and  at  one  time  almost  resolved  upon 
man's  annihilation.     But  gradually  he  seemed  to  retreat, 
become  remote  and  afar,  to  have  grown  indifferent,  and  all 
belief  in  so  metaphysical  a  being  which  the  pundits  had 
evolved  appeared  about  to  perish  from  the  earth.     Now 
God  is  dead,  the  people  cried.    There  never  is,  or  was,  any 
such  all-father  and  never  could  be.    Give  us  back  our  ever- 
present  Mana  and  its  manifold  embodiments  in  Mother 
Earth,  sun,  moon,  trees,  animals,  and  man,  they  said.   Give 
us  our  old  sages  and  cults  and  free  us  from  these  canonical 
compilations.     It  was  at  this  period  that  a  unique  but 
epoch-making  step  was  taken  which  was  almost  without  any 
analogue  in  our  own  era.    The  old  "heart-formers"  at  first 
added  their  urgency  to  that  of  the  people  and  insisted  that 
they  could  be  given  again  their  old  pantheon  human  and 
sub-human,  and  that  the  exclusive  cult  of  the  absolute  per 
son  be  allowed  to  lapse.     This,  of  course,  the  scholiarchs, 
who  had  to  stand  by  both  their  canon  and  their  dogma, 
opposed.    Only  after  decades  of  controversy,  during  which 
many   provinces   lapsed   to  crass  idolatries,   and   others, 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  91 

fewer  but  more  insightful,  found  refuge  in  mysticisms  of 
many  shades,  was  a  great  compromise  effected.  The  ' '  heart- 
formers"  relinquished  their  plea  for  all  sub-human  deities, 
while  the  scholiarchs  abandoned  their  effort  directly  to  im 
personate  the  infinite,  and  both  agreed  that  a  new,  but 
purely  human,  individuality  must  now  be  fabricated  as 
the  supreme  representative  of  man  and  at  the  same  time  an 
incarnation  of  deity  which,  both  parties  agreed,  was  in 
fact  only  Mansoul  in  general,  because  the  genus  homo  was 
the  ultimate  goal  of  all  the  developmental  processes. 

So  among  the  many  savior  legends  of  dying  and  revenient 
heroes  they  chose  as  the  best  modulus  or  point  de  repere  the 
dim  tradition  of  a  peasant  (because  he  must  appeal  to  the 
sympathies  of  the  proletariat )  in  a  remote  and  little  known 
province  (so  that  while  his  career  had  a  real  historic  core, 
it  was  so  obscure  as  to  admit  of  the  most  plastic  and  ideal 
transformations  to  bring  out  its  maximal  effectiveness)  ;  his 
career  must  be  a  masterpiece  of  pathos  (because  this  brings 
the  closest  of  all  rapports  in  gregarious  man),  and  after  his 
most  tragic  death  and  interment  he  must  come  back  a  con 
queror  over  death  itself,  which  had  now  become,  as  it  was 
not  in  Atlantis  of  yore,  man's  supreme  object  of  fear.  Fi 
nally,  as  a  reluctant  concession  to  the  scholiarchs,  it  was 
represented  that  this  totemic  person  should  in  some  way  be 
connected  with  their  great  personified  Mana  as  his  goal,  if 
not  his  source,  although  his  own  life  purpose  was  to  reduce 
the  number  and  to  limit  the  degree  of  his  attributes.  Both 
the  story  and  the  doctrine  of  this  new  incarnation  had  to  be 
evolved.  'Fhe  first,  which  involved  careful  mosaic  work 
among  many  sources,  was  entrusted  to  a  carefully  chosen 
group  of  the  ' l  heart  formers, ' '  and  their  result  was  made  a 
supplementary  sacred  canon.  The  doctrine,  which  must  be 
semipopular,  was  confected  by  the  scholiarchs.  Thus  here 
we  do  find  some  analogy  to  the  distinctions  between  the 
Pauline  and  Petrine  trends  in  our  New  Testament.  Thus 


92         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

evolved  it  is  not  strange  that  the  new  evangel  of  the  Atlan- 
teans  was  far  more  elaborate,  its  parts  more  harmonized 
than  all  its  motifs,  more  richly  dight  with  incident,  its  pre 
cepts  more  numerous,  and  the  descent  of  its  hero  to  the 
depths  of  agony  and  his  ascent  to  the  heights  of  exaltation 
yet  more  moving  and  more  completely  complemental  than 
in  our  great  Jesus  legend.  The  early  achievements  of  this 
new  embodiment  of  humanity  were  more  thrilling  and 
numerous ;  his  disappointments  made  a  yet  longer  and  more 
cumulative  Iliad  of  woes  and  disasters ;  his  death  was  com 
plete  and  utter  both  of  body  and  soul  and  of  all  hope  and 
for  months  afterwards  despair  settled  on  the  earth.  His 
erstwhile  most  enthusiastic  followers  had  denounced  him  as 
an  impostor  and  cursed  his  memory.  His  wisdom  they  now 
deemed  folly.  The  stages  of  his  return  back  to  life  which 
began  with  a  faint  hope  were  all  of  them  seen  by  multi 
tudes,  and  for  long  years  he  was  said  to  have  lived,  wan 
dered,  and  taught  vast  multitudes  in  many  provinces,  while 
his  apotheosis  at  the  end  was  a  spectacle  of  such  cosmic 
grandeur  as  the  world  had  never  seen  before  and  will  never 
behold  again.  Even  the  dead  arose  to  see  it,  and  many 
were  mad  with  joy  that  the  fear  of  man's  arch  enemy, 
death,  which  had  brooded  over  the  earth  from  the  begin 
ning,  was  now  forever  annihilated.  Some  even  strove  to 
represent  this  world  savior  as  miraculously  conceived  and 
born  as  a  more  complete  symbol  of  his  filial  relation  to  the 
One  and  All  than  was  his  putative  ascension.  But  this 
symbolization  of  the  relation  of  the  individual  man  to  the 
Infinite  was  deemed  too  crass  and  materialistic  for  even 
the  most  insistent  will-to-believe  to  accept,  and  it  was  also 
thought  to  detract  from  the  purity  of  his  humanity. 

The  effects  of  this,  the  greatest  of  all  psychotherapeutic 
enterprises  for  the  betterment  of  the  folksoul,  were  every 
where  immediate  and  salutary.  There  was  woven  into  this 
legend  enough  magic  and  miracle  to  appeal  to,  and  to  sat- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  93 

isfy,  those  who  wanted  it,  and  also  mystic  idealism  enough 
to  appeal  to  every  intuitive  power  of  the  deepest  souls,  with 
pathos  to  melt  and  victory  to  exalt;  while  the  offerings  to 
the  highest  powers  that  were  made  from  both  the  vegetable 
and  the  animal  world  sufficiently  recognized  and  also  pretty 
completely  sublimated  the  cults  of  these  sub-human  objects 
of  worship  so  that  they  slowly  died  but  were  transfigured  in 
so  doing. 

Now  it  was  that  there  arose  more  strongly  than  ever  be 
fore  a  demand  for  stated  forms  of  ritual  and  service  to  set 
forth  with  all  the  appanage  of  symbol,  music,  processional, 
drama,  and  poetry,  the  true  life  of  man  as  thus  epitomized 
and  portrayed.  There  was  also  urgent  need  of  organization, 
buildings  and  propaganda,  so  that  there  arose  in  the  course 
of  time  an  order  or  caste  practically  unknown  before  akin 
to  our  priesthood,  which  soon  differentiated  into  many  de 
grees  with  diverse  functions.  Before  their  growing  influ 
ence  the  guild  of  "heart-formers"  declined.  It  was  they 
who  developed  orthodoxies  of  both  rites  and  creeds,  inducted 
all  who  implicitly  accepted  their  teachings  and  threatened 
and  imprecated  those  who  refused  to  do  so,  gathered  in  vast 
wealth  that  made  their  organization  rich  though  accepting^ 
nothing  for  themselves.  They  vowed  chastity,  poverty  and 
obedience,  developed  an  educational  system,  an  elaborate 
code  all  their  own,  and  instituted  orders  of  apprenticeship, 
and  caused  many  young  women  to  leave  the  world  and 
devote  themselves  to  this  service  as  they  had  done.  So 
attractive  was  the  life  of  these  enthusiastic  devotees  and 
so  many  of  the  best  of  both  sexes  entered  upon  this  rule  of 
life,  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  centuries  Atlantis  was 
largely  peopled  by  the  lower  orders  and  stirps,  and  a 
period  akin  to  our  Dark  Ages  ensued  during  which  the 
priesthood  itself  at  first  flourished  and  then  declined. 

Thus  we  now  enter  an  age  in  the  religious  history  of 
Atlantis  so  extremely  analogous  to  our  own  that  we  need 


94         RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

not  further  detail  it.  There  was  the  same  long  struggle 
between  Church  and  State;  the  same  hypertropjhy  of 
anxiety  about  another  life  after  this;  there  was  a  heaven 
and  a  hell  no  less  elaborate,  and  there  was  the  same  phobic 
fetish  of  an  awful  judgment  day  impending;  the  same 
multiplication  of  schools  and  sects;  the  same  tendency  to 
magnify  unimportant  differences;  the  same  faith  in  a 
vicarious  atonement  achieved  from  without,  for  and  not 
by  us,  and  drawn  on  by  an  act  of  faith.  This  priesthood 
had  a  similar  control  over  wedlock  and  death  and  burial 
rites,  and  as  the  people  grew  ignorant  after  the  close  of  the 
schools,  the  pride  and  arrogance  of  the  priests  increased. 
They  exacted  tithes  of  rich  and  poor,  built  gorgeous  tem 
ples,  acquired  vast  properties,  vied  with  princes  in  the 
magnificence  of  their  ceremonial  vestments  and  retinues, 
were  jealous  of  every  kind  of  excellence  outside  their  order, 
and  strove  to  monopolize  art,  censor  learning,  and  perse 
cute  innovations  of  life  and  opinion,  as  is  the  wont  of  our 
hierarchies. 

Then  came  the  greatest  and  longest  war  in  all  the  his 
tory  of  Atlantis.  In  none  of  her  wars  in  East  or  "West 
had  the  struggle  been  so  bitter  as  in  this  conflict  between 
spiritual  and  temporal  powers.  It  grew  from  small  begin 
nings.  In  the  far  North  was  a  hardy  race  that  was  proud, 
independent  and  prosperous.  Here  the  priests  deposed 
and  confiscated  all  the  holdings  of  the  local  prince,  placed 
the  people  under  a  cruel  and  causeless  ban,  levied  heavy 
fines  which  they  sought  to  collect  by  force,  and  when  all 
united  to  oppose  them,  the  hierarchs  here  closed  the  tem 
ples,  suspended  all  their  offices,  and  withdrew.  Only  a 
small  band  of  native  monks  remained  faithful  to  their 
people  and  declared  their  spiritual  independence  and  laid 
the  foundations  for  a  new  religious  regime.  It  was  thus 
and  here  that  the  great  war  began,  and  from  here  the 
revolt  spread  to  more  central  provinces.  Never  was  war- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  95 

fare  more  cruel  and  waged  with  such  barbaric  atrocity. 
Families  were  divided  in  nearly  every  hamlet  as  it  spread, 
property  and  wealth  vanished,  and  vast  areas  were  some 
times  almost  depopulated.  Gaunt  famine  stalked  the 
streets,  conflagrations  destroyed  once  prosperous  towns 
and  cities,  and  disease  and  pestilence  swept  thousands 
away  whom  all  the  other  horrors  had  spared.  Armies  on 
both  sides  grew  smaller  but  they  fought  on  with  increased 
desperation. 

After  a  generation  of  desperate  conflict  it  extended  to 
every  corner  of  the  realm ;  the  hierarchs,  realizing  that  their 
cause  was  lost,  decided,  as  a  last  desperate  step,  to  suspend 
all  their  offices.  This  they  did  after  fulminating  an  awful 
curse  upon  the  land,  invoking  pests  to  consume  all  the 
vegetable  products  of  the  soil,  murrain  to  destroy  all  the 
flocks  and  herds,  which  were  to  remain  putrefying  and 
unburied  where  they  died,  cursing  all  the  food  and  drink 
of  their  enemies  that  it  might  become  poisonous,  solemnly 
condemning  them  to  eternal  torture  after  death,  and  for 
bidding  women  to  bear  children.  Then  carefully  providing 
themselves  with  as  large  stores  as  possible  of  all  things 
needful,  nearly  all  the  priesthood  of  all  orders  withdrew  to 
the  temples,  taking  with  them  those  of  the  holy  women 
they  chose  and  who  would  come,  and  here  for  years  they 
lived  in  comfort  and  isolation.  Sometimes  even  these  sa 
cred  strongholds  were  attacked  by  riotous  mobs  of  frenzied 
people,  but  both  the  edifices  and  their  occupants  were  still 
generally  protected  by  a  certain  superstitious  awe  invet 
erate  from  a  long  past. 

Thus  it  came  that  people  once  the  most  pious  of  races 
the  earth  has  ever  seen  were  without  religion.  Because 
there  were  none  to  marry  them  lust  developed,  and  be 
cause  there  could  be  no  form  of  burials  the  dead  were  in 
terred  like  animals.  There  were  none  to  christen  and  bless 
the  newly-born,  so  that  children  were  few  and  their  lot 


96         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

pitiful.  There  were  none  to  placate  the  gods,  who  seemed 
wroth  with  man  and  bent  upon  his  extermination,  or  at 
least  they  seemed  to  have  withdrawn  from  earth  and 
showed  no  further  concern  for  the  sons  of  men.  There 
were  none  to  make  offerings  to  placate  them,  and  the 
only  way  by  which  men  could  escape  eternal  suffering 
was  closed.  In  some  places  priests  were  implored  to  re 
sume  their  functions,  but  refused,  or  more  often  made 
conditions  that  were  impossible — restoration  of  all  their 
confiscated  wealth,  abject  submission  to  all  their  decrees, 
complete  temporal  power,  solemn  reasseverations  of  be 
lief  and  pledges  of  submisison  to  the  ecclesiastical  order, 
which  was  now  more  than  ever  impossible.  Thus,  many 
relapsed  to  paganism  and  idolatry  more  vulgar  and  de 
graded  than  had  ever  been  known  in  Atlantis  before,  while 
some  few  strove,  often  with  more  or  less  local  success,  to 
restore  the  old  order  of  things  as  it  had  been  under  the 
"heart-formers"  from  such  vestiges  of  their  cult  as  tradi 
tion  and  the  records  could  supply. 

The  dominant  sentiment  of  most  of  the  best  Atlanteans 
was  a  deep  resentment  at  the  entire  priestly  polity  of  over- 
regimentation  of  the  religious  life  and  the  hyperorganiza- 
tion  of  the  normally  free  movements  of  the  human  spirit 
which  had  so  materialized  and  mechanized  the  higher  life 
of  the  soul.  The  chief  reclamation  was  against  the  setting 
up  of  another  world  kingdom  which  abated  the  zest  for 
making  the  most  and  best  of  this  world.  This,  they  said, 
had  dualized  the  very  soul  of  man  into  a  diesseits  and  a 
jenseits  consciousness,  setting  the  immanent  and  trans 
cendent  over  against  each  other,  and  this  had  led  to  the 
bold  proclamation  that  all  religion  was  a  pathological  hal 
lucination.  All  priestcraft  they  now  came  to  deem  a  ma 
lign  plot  to  undermine  the  sanity  and  peace  of  mind  of 
the  world,  the  nightmare  from  which  they  were  now  awak 
ened,  and  they  felt  they  must  arouse  their  fellowmen. 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  97 

Perhaps 'it -was  some  faint  and  far-off  echo  of  this  propa 
ganda  that  reached  Confucius,  impelling  him  to  dispense 
with  all  that  was  transcendental  and  supermundane  in  his 
doctrine  and  to  teach  only  the  personal  and  civil  virtues 
that  make  for  the  best  conditions  here.  "Let  us  never 
think  again  of  a  hereafter  of  gods,  or,  if  we  can  help  it, 
even  of  death/'  they  said,  "for  we  can  never  know;  and 
let  us  turn  deaf  ears  to  all  mystagogues,  illuminati,  and 
hierophants. "  A  few  fanatics  within  this  group  advo 
cated  and  even  attempted  not  only  looting  but  sometimes 
burning  of  the  temples  and  of  the  holy  men  and  women 
now  gathered  in  them  and  making  a  tabula  rasa  in  order 
to  symbolize  "a  new  departure  without  all  these  parasitic 
excrescences  which  had  brought  so  many  woes  upon  us. 
Thus  only  can  we  make  a  new  start  on  secular  and  lay 
lines. "  But  these  drastic  measures  found  but  little  favor 
among  the  masses,  for  they  still  held  their  self-deposed 
guides  in  too  much  awe. 

The  most  general  result  of  all  these  long  wars  of  arms 
and  of  opinions  was  that  most  of  the  old  bonds  that  had 
united  men  were  loosened  or  broken.  Each  individual 
did,  felt,  and  thought  as  he  inclined  until  even  parties,  lo 
cal  communities,  and  interests  lost  their  old  cohesion,  so 
cial  disintegration  grew  apace,  and  the  very  instinct  of 
the  herd,  normally  so  strong  in  man,  seemed  to  suffer  an 
eclipse.  Egoism  everywhere  was  rife.  Even  the  armies 
that  remained  lost  the  spirit  of  discipline  and  often  re 
volted  against  their  officers,  and  their  separate  divisions 
evolved  military  programs  that  it  was  impossible  to  har 
monize,  as  the  resentment  against  all  authority,  already  so 
prevalent  in  other  fields,  as  we  have  seen,  wrought  out  its 
dire  consequences  in  this  domain.  Even  where  there 
seemed  some  faint  hope  of  ultimate  restoration  in  some 
form  of  what  had  been  lost,  there  was  now  none.  Love, 
friendship,  and  with  them  joy  seemed  to  have  taken  flight 


98         RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

from  the  earth,  and  in  their  place  was  only  distrust,  sus 
picion,  jealousy,  lust,  greed,  and  underneath  all  a  deep 
half -unconscious  sense  that  some  dire  and  supreme  tragedy 
impended.  There  was  a  vague  dread  of  doom  which  none 
could  formulate  and  which  was,  therefore,  all  the  more  op 
pressive.  Some  ineluctable  decree  of  fate  seemed  to  have 
been  pronounced  which  awaited  only  its  execution.  So 
acute  and  widespread  was  this  sense  of  final  disaster  that 
many  of  the  most  earnest  and  insightful  men  and  women 
yielded  to  despair  and  took  refuge  in  suicide  from  sheer 
pity  for  the  lower  state  into  which  man  had  fallen.  There 
were  now  no  physicians  for  the  body  or  for  the  soul,  no 
justice,  no  learning,  and  no  religion.  Those  who  should 
have  led  in  these  domains  and  once  did  so  had  abandoned 
their  function  by  a  harctrkiri  decree  tantamount  to  suicide 
for  their  order  and  had  thus  done  all  in  their  power  to 
make  life  no  longer  worth  living,  and  hence  for  the  indi 
vidual  to  end  his  own  life  seemed  the  ineluctable  moral. 
Those  who  took  this  fatal  course  did  so  with  imprecations 
upon  all  the  revolters  as  their  last  message  to  those  left 
behind.  Finally  there  came  to  be  something  like  a  litany 
of  curses  decreed  by  and  for  those  thus  about  to  die  by 
their  own  hand — ''upon  the  'medicos'  who  had  betrayed 
the  health  of  the  state;  the  apostles  who  had  become  the 
apostates  of  justice;  upon  the  disciples  who  had  become 
the  traitors  of  learning  and  research;  and  on  the  priestly 
caste  who  had  deserted  their  sacred  office  and  refused  all 
ministrations  to  man's  spiritual  nature,  for  these  are  the 
assassins  of  the  state  and  our  blood  is  upon  their  hands." 
Thus  the  Atlanteans  might  now  almost  be  called  a  people 
without  a  soul.  In  our  era  many  religions  that  have 
thrived  must  have  been  borrowed  from  other  racial  stocks 
and  flourished  by  transplantation,  but  Atlantis  comprised 
all  the  then  known  world  and  so  there  were  no  alien  faiths 
that  could  be  thus  imported.  All  its  human  stock  was  im- 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  59 

paired;  crime  and  vice  were  unpunished  and  thus  unde 
terred  till  the  very  instinct  of  order  and  justice  seemed 
vanishing,  ignorance  and  superstition  unchallenged  and 
everywhere  increasing,  all  the  restraints  and  stimuli  that 
come  from  belief  in  a  supplemental  life  of  rewards  and 
punishments  swept  away,  they  were  left  without  gods  in 
the  world,  and  thus  Atlantis  stumhled  on  in  its  downward 
path,  a  prey  to  all  the  ills  from  which  it  had  once  been  so 
uniquely  immune.  There  were  even  no  crude  or  savage 
stirps  from  which  to  restock  the  world  by  the  regenera 
tive  infusion  of  new  blood,  and  no  vigor,  wisdom,  or  public 
spirit  to  inaugurate  any  policy  of  arrest  of  the  decline, 
still  less  of  restoration.  Indeed,  there  were  no  leaders, 
and  such  had  been  the  rancor  against  all  rule  and  author 
ity  that,  had  there  been  leadership,  it  would  have  found 
itself  impotent.  As  if  dimly  anticipating  that  the  end  of 
things  was  fast  approaching  men  gave  themselves  up  to 
the  frenzied  quest  of  every  gross  and  immediate  pleasure 
still  attainable.  Rapine,  debauchery,  lust,  and  outrage 
abounded.  But  the  end  was  still  delayed,  for  there  is  an 
other  and  yet  more  pathetic  act  with  which  the  awful 
drama  concludes. 

vn 

WOMAN  AT  HEB  BEST  AND  WOEST 

IN  the  good  and  great  early  days  of  Atlantean  history 
woman  was  everywhere  held  in  high  respect.  She,  like 
man,  had  been  large,  strong,  vital,  and  vigorous,  but,  as 
is  her  nature,  was  more  generic,  nearer  to  the  life  of  the 
race  and  a  better  all-sided  representative  of  it.  She  had 
been  not  only  the  priestess  of  the  home,  but  man's  best 
adviser  and  confidante,  and  the  guidance  of  her  intuitions 
had  always  been  sought.  There  had  never  been  a  matriar- 
chate  and  there  were  no  Amazons,  but  her  sex  had  never 


100       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

lost  a  modicum  of  the  religious  regard  which  we  often  find 
among  the  primitives  of  our  era  inspired  by  her  wondrous 
special  functions.  She  not  only  swayed  man  by  all  these 
influences,  but  had  in  a  sense  fashioned  him  by  molding 
Ms  very  diathesis  in  the  first  few  years  of  life  during 
which  character  is  plastic.  She  sought  no  sophistication, 
but  trusted  her  intuitive  promptings,  realizing  that  ac 
cording  to  an  old  proverb,  "The  eternally  feminine  im 
pels  the  race  onward/'  her  soul  was  in  a  sense  the  " pil 
lar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night,"  both  to  guide 
and  to  impel  man  to  his  goal. 

Many  old  women  were  venerated  as  seeresses,  or  were 
deemed  to  be  custodians  of  the  half -mystic,  traditional, 
wisdom  such  as  Plato  ascribed  to  his  instructress,  a  quality 
which  in  our  less  evolved  civilization  has  led  men  to  ascribe 
to  them  the  most  diverse  attributes,  such  as  fates,  furies, 
pythonesses,  oracles,  witches,  muses,  etc.  Their  insights 
were  never  regarded  as  uncanny  or  their  influence  ma 
lign,  but  they  were  generally  looked  upon  with  such  re 
spect  that  young  women  no  longer  dreaded  or  concealed 
their  senescence  but  more  often  looked  forward  to  it  with 
longing.  Grandmothers  were  revered  in  every  household, 
and  those  fortunate  enough  to  have  two  or  more  were 
thought  specially  favored;  while  great-grandmothers,  who 
were  not  uncommon,  were  consulted  by  all  their  household 
in  everything  deemed  important  enough  to  be  worthy  of 
their  attention.  Their  counsel,  especially  in  all  domestic,, 
social,  and  religious  matters,  was  generally  implicitly  and 
reverently  followed.  All  men  charged  with  large  public 
or  private  affairs  chose  one  or  more  of  these  sage  women  as 
his  confidante  or  adviser.  Never  in  our  era  has  old  age) 
in  women  been  so  noble,  so  dignified,  and  so  worthy  of) 
the  reverence  here  bestowed  upon  it;  nor,  we  may  add, 
has  their  estate  so  often  been  envied  by  men. 

Not  only  were  honeymoons  unknown  and  the  first  days 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  101 

that  followed  wedlock  made  as  nearly  as-  possible  sample 
days  of  subsequent  life,  marked  by  daily  separation  and 
absorption  each  in  his  or  her  occupation,  but  these  unions 
were  regarded  as  the  beginnings,  and  not  the  end,  of  the 
romance  of  life.  Even  the  tales,  legends,  romances,  and 
dramas,  which  ended  here,  were  deemed  more  or  less  im 
proper,  while  all  the  best  of  them  were  devoted  to  the  de 
scriptions  of  the  mutual  adjustments,  revelations,  correc 
tions,  supplementations,  and  refinements  of  each  by  each 
after  wedlock,  or  else  were  designed  as  warnings  against 
the  fatal  errors  in  these  processes — misunderstandings,  un 
reasonable  exactions,  causeless  suspicions,  undue  sensual 
ity,  and  jealousies,  etc.  Each  party  was  made  to  realize 
that  it  was  vastly  easier  to  win  than  to  hold  affection,  and 
since,  as  we  have  seen,  failure  to  do  the  latter  involved 
separation,  the  methods  and  spirit  of  courtship  must  be 
maintained  through  life,  for  there  was  no  legal  or  religious 
bond  to  be  relied  on  to  perpetuate  a  loveless  union,  so 
that  these  were  almost  unknown  or  impossible  in  early 
Atlantis.  If,  as  rarely  happened,  a  husband  fell  a  victim 
to  inebriation,  gossip  became  curious  about  his  home  table 
and  the  attractiveness  of  his  domestic  circle.  If  he  sought 
other  women,  gossip  suspected  that  the  wife,  who  had  every 
advantage  of  position,  propinquity,  safety,  and  seclusion, 
had  not  surrounded  the  most  sacred  part  of  the  marital 
relation  with  all  the  subtle  charms  of  allurement,  of  very 
gradual  approach  and  finally  the  full  abandonment  of 
which  this  relation  is  capable  and  without  which  it  is 
liable  to  lapse,  for  what  married  man,  they  said,  could 
possibly  forsake  all  this  for  a  few  wild  hours  of  surrepti 
tious  orgy  with  purchasable  favors  ?  If  a  wife  went  astray, 
the  husband  was  suspected  to  be  at  fault,  for  it  was  felt 
she  was  probably  a  victim  of  his  neglect,  over-absorption 
in  outside  aifairs,  failure  to  study  and  adjust  to  her  na 
ture  and  needs,  or  at  least  to  her  moods  and  fancies,  or 


102       RECREATIONS-  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

that  he  hid  -become  fess,  n',>t  more,  a  lover,  the  re 
verse  of  which  should  be  the  ease,  with  every  year  of 
domestic  companionship ;  or  perhaps  he  had  been  wanting 
in  thoughtful  protection  or  had  shown  the  imperfection  of 
his  true  paternal  feeling  by  relaxation  of  tenderness  when 
it  was  most  needed,  viz.,  at  the  time  when  from  being  his 
mistress  his  partner's  life  began  to  be  transfigured  by 
motherhood.  If  then  he  had  allowed  her  trust  in  him, 
which  is  so  often  tried  and  strained  at  this  season,  to 
falter  and  becloud  her  bliss  over  her  new-born,  it  was  well 
understood  that  this  impaired  her  true  maternal  function 
and  handicapped  the  future  of  the  child.  All  these  as 
pects  of  married  life  were  the  favorite  theme  of  fiction  in 
these  golden  days  of  Atlantean  history,  and  all  this  fa 
vored  youth,  health,  and  longevity,  so  that  women  bore 
eugenic  children  at  sixty  and  were  fully  senescent  only  at 
eighty. 

Women  held  property  independently  of  their  husbands, 
and  because  of  the  communal  tables  above  described  and 
the  "groves,"  had  much  leisure,  and  so  could  work  in  the 
gardens,  fields,  or  enter  any  occupation  they  chose.  The 
ambition  of  nearly  every  one  was  to  be  a  good  mother,  and 
to  this  end  most  were  willing  and  eager  to  subordinate  every 
other.  To  them,  too,  were  left  by  general  consent  the 
methods  of  dealing  with  young  children,  and  most  affairs 
connected  with  religion  were  predominantly  in  their 
hands.  They,  too,  were  the  chief  coadjutors  of  the  "heart- 
formers."  They  kept  somewhat  informal,  but  effective, 
censorship  over  public  and  private  morals.  If  a  young 
man  became  profligate,  they  withdrew  from  all  association 
with  him,  as  they  did  from  all  men  who  offended  the  public 
conscience  by  extortion,  flagrant  dishonesty,  and  unpa 
triotic  or  flagitious  conduct.  Against  matrimonial  al 
liances  with  such  offenders  it  was  a  part  of  the  duty  of 
the  matrons  to  warn  young  girls,  and  thus  in  nearly  every 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  103 

community  some  of  the  mature  women  came  to  be  selected 
out  by  an  unfonnulated  consensus  to  advise  innocent  girls 
about  to  marry  concerning-  the  duties,  rights,  and  oppor 
tunities  of  their  new  relation.  The  care  of  these  matrons, 
too,  extended  to  young  wives  and  especially  young  mothers. 
While  love  was  regarded  as  indispensable  to  happy  unions 
and  as  generally  involving  a  kind  of  mystic  intuitive  wis 
dom  with  which  it  was  a  serious  matter  to  interfere,  still 
their  idea  of  Cupid  was  not  that  he  was  a  blind  boy,  but 
rather  a  maiden  with  eyes  very  wide  open  and  not  very 
liable  to  lead  astray  if  only  the  young  were  given  a  wide 
basis  of  selection.  Thus,  the  matrons  provided  and  pre 
sided  over  manifold  occasions,  some  more,  some  less,  stated, 
where  nubile  youth  and  maidens  could  meet  and  become 
acquainted,  judge,  compare,  and  elect.  All  elementary, 
and  later  all  the  highest,  forms  of  education,  were  open 
alike  to  both  sexes,  although  it  was  very  early  found  that 
there  was  a  great  and  natural  difference  in  the  fields  to 
which  each  was  drawn,  as  well  as  in  the  kind  and  strength 
of  interest  and  the  most  effective  methods. 

All  women  wore  a  kind  of  trouser  from  waist  to  knee, 
and  over  this  a  short  peplum,  tunic,  or  camisole.  Both 
these  garments  might  have  any  desired  length,  texture,  or 
design.  Most  wore  stockings  and  heelless  sandals,  and 
there  was  little  or  no  headgear  save  as  a  protection  against 
sun,  cold,  or  rain.  Any  or  no  overgarment  was  worn, 
according  to  £he  taste  or  comfort  of  the  individual,  but 
this  had  the  widest  range,  for  there  was  no  tyranny  of 
fashion,  and  the  first  law  of  dress  was  that  it  must  feel 
right  (i.e.,  smooth,  harsh,  stiff,  or  flexible)  to  the  wearer, 
rather  than  appeal  to  onlookers.  All  garments  must  per 
mit  the  freest  possible  movement.  Thus  it  was  that  indi 
viduality  and  even  originality  in  attire  were  fostered  and 
each  woman  was  stimulated  to  invent  her  own  style  of 
garment,  and  as  each  made  her  own  clothes,  good  work- 


104       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

manship  together  with,  agreeable  designs  took  precedence 
over  quality  and  texture  of  material.  The  hair  was  worn 
long  and  was  never  cut  after  the  age  of  five,  and  the  coif 
fure,  though  extremely  diverse,  as  much  so  as  all  the  fash 
ions  of  all  the  people  of  our  day  together,  was  generally 
Simple  and  without  artifice.  Cosmetics,  once  in  very 
general  use,  had  long  since  been  banished.  There  were 
few  ornaments  worn  save  a  ring  at  betrothal.  The  gar 
ments  of  nubile  girls  were  usually  ornate  and  even  very 
elaborate  products  of  their  own  skill  and  artistic  needle 
work,  as  were  their  marriage  trousseaus.  All  mothers 
were  proud  to  wear  on  their  breast  a  star,  or,  if  they  pre 
ferred,  a  medal  for  each  child,  white  for  a  girl  and  blue 
for  a  boy,  and  these  were  replaced  by  a  black  disk  if  a 
child  had  died. 

Modest  as  costumes  always  were  here,  each  youth  and 
maiden  of  marriageable  age  was  required  to  assemble  at  a 
local  beach  in  the  coldest  season  of  the  year,  and  first  one 
sex  and  then  the  other,  with  only  a  loin-cloth,  had  to  run, 
swim,  dance,  sing,  and  engage  in  often  a  long  program  of 
alternating  sports  in  the  open,  no  matter  how  inclement 
the  weather.  The  patronesses  of  these  festivals  were  the 
matrons,  the  "  heart-formers/ '  and  other  invited  guests. 
To  strip  well  was  regarded  as  a  significant  feature  not 
only  of  body-keeping  but  of  morale.  As  a  result  of  these 
competitive  exhibitions  there  were  verdicts,  with  prizes, 
for  excellence  of  both  physical  form  and  merit  of  perform 
ance,  and  admonitions  were  meted  out  for  neglect  of  body- 
keeping  or  training.  Thus  temper,  disposition  and  char 
acter  in  general,  as  well  as  symmetry,  endurance,  and 
assiduity  were  tested,  and  the  incentive  to  make  a  credit 
able  showing  at  these  festivals  was  strong  throughout  the 
year.  In  many  ways,  too,  that  need  not  here  be  detailed, 
;these  assemblies  proved  a  strong  incentive  to  marital 
unions,  for  normally  those  of  either  sex  whose  excellence 


THE  FALL  OP  ATLANTIS  105 

was  here  set  forth  were  especially  sought  by  the  other; 
and  thus,  too,  those  shown  inferior  were  neglected  and 
so  given  a  high-power  motive  to  do  better  the  next  year. 
Later,  in  addition  to  this  physical  program,  both  youth 
and  maidens  here  brought  the  best  samples  of  their  handi 
work,  and  yet  later,  intellectual  products,  not  only  liter 
ary  and  artistic  but  attested  records  made  by  the  "  heart- 
formers"  of  any  signal  achievement  made  in  any  field 
during  the  year.  Thus  these  festivals  became  a  kind  of 
assay  of  the  quality  of  the  marriageable  material  in  the 
land.  The  youth  of  each  sex  were  exhorted  also  to  act 
always  as  if  the  noblest  specimens  of  the  other  sex  were 
present  and  looking  on,  and  thus  to  avoid  all  that  would 
seem  unworthy  of  them.  As  a  result  of  the  spirit  here 
fostered,  adults,  "both  men  and  women,  came  to  feel  that 
they  must  do  nothing  youth  would  condemn,  thus  realiz 
ing  their  responsibility  as  pattern-setters  for  those  in  this 
golden  age  of  life,  so  plastic  to  the  influence  and  example 
of  those  older,  wiser,  and  better  known.  There  and  then, 
as  here  and  now,  the  sentiments  and  ideals  of  youth  were 
recognized  as  the  best  material  for  prophecy,  for,  as  adoles 
cents  feel  to-day,  the  world  will  go  a  generation  hence. 
Thus,  these  unique  celebrations  kept  adulthood  in  vital 
and  sympathetic  touch  with  this  best  age  of  life  and  its 
inspirations,  while  in  turn  its  best  impulsions  were  also 
stimulated  and  given  power  to  irrigate  not  only  maturity 
but  even  old  age.  Nations  and  races,  like  individuals, 
have  their  adolescent  stage,  and  this  in  Atlantis  was  the 
age  when  woman  was  at  the  acme  of  her  power  and  in 
fluence. 

In  every  community  in  Atlantis  the  married  women 
united  in  sustaining  a  "house"  and  also  a  hospital,  both 
of  which  perhaps  merit  description.  The  "house"  varied 
greatly  with  the  size  of  the  community  but  always  pro 
vided  three  things:  sleeping  accommodations  for  guests, 


106       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

suites  for  social  gatherings,  and  a  hall  for  meetings. 
These  "  houses "  were  always  open,  and  here  the  women 
met  and  discussed  formally  and  informally  all  the  af 
fairs  of  the  community,  somewhat  as  in  our  era  men  do  in 
clubs.  These  confabulations  were  prevented  from  sinking 
to  triviality  or  gossip-mongering  by  the  * '  courts  of  honor, ' ' 
through  the  pronouncements  of  which  women  in  each 
community  worked  perhaps  their  chief  influence.  When 
ever  any  man  in  the  community,  whether  in  public  or  in 
private  life,  had  done  an  act  of  any  kind  of  conspicuous 
merit  or  demerit,  service  or  disservice,  he  and  his  deed 
were,  as  it  were,  placed  on  trial  in  one  of  these  secret 
courts.  Here  any  woman  witness  could  be  summoned,  and 
if  there  were  no  volunteers  to  plead  both  pro  and  con, 
such  were  appointed.  The  findings  of  the  courts  were 
then  posted  in  the  hall  and  were  modifiable  or  even  re 
versible  for  a  year.  In  their  final  form  they  were  com 
municated  by  personal  missive  to  the  man  approved  or 
censured,  and  if  the  former,  a  button  of  a  special  form, 
size,  and  color,  to  which  symbolic  meanings  were  ascribed, 
was  given,  which  those  thus  approved  wore  if  they  chose 
and  which  indicated  that  they  held  one  or  another  form  of 
honorary  membership  in  the  women's  "house."  At  first 
these  badges  were  held  in  small  esteem  by  men,  but  in 
time  they  came  to  be  prized  and  regarded  as  insignia  of 
a  new  order  of  nobility.  Those  given  the  highest  of  these 
insignia  were  granted  entrance  to  the  "houses"  at  certain 
functions,  always  under  carefully  chosen  chaperonage,  and 
were  here  allowed  certain  other  privileges  and  exemptions ; 
while  those  whose  conduct  was  found  dishonorable  were 
subjected  to  more  carefully  drawn  rules  of  ostracism  with 
many  features  of  what  we  might  call  boycott.  In  all  this 
it  was  at  first  found  extremely  difficult  to  resist  the  plead 
ings  of  friends,  especially  of  good  wives  of  offending  hus 
bands,  but  as  time  passed,  precedents  multiplied  and 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  107 

standards  grew  more  definite,  recognized,  and  accepted,  de 
cisions  more  impartial,  and  the  verdicts  of  these  courts 
more  influential  in  the  lives  of  men  of  the  community. 
Thus  woman's  great  function  of  selection  found  here  its 
most  effective  installation.  Girls  and  unwed  women  were 
never  admitted  to  these  "houses,"  but  were  initiated  only 
upon  marriage. 

The  hospitals  for  and  by  women  received  those  ap 
proaching  motherhood  and  also  treated  all  the  diseases 
most  common  in  this  sex ;  trained,  registered,  and  assigned 
to  service  midwives  and  nurses  and  also  later  social  work 
ers  to  keep  watch  over  hygienic  and  moral  conditions  of 
children  throughout  the  community,  in  both  school  and 
home,  and  also  of  girls  in  store,  shop,  factory,  and  home. 
They  also  had  to  cooperate  with  all  the  agencies  of  social, 
mental,  and  moral  hygiene.  Most  nubile  maidens  had 
served  a  voluntary  apprenticeship  as  probationers  in  these 
institutions,  some  of  which  delegated  to  each  girl  the 
special  care  of  some  family  or  child,  and  each  of  these 
caretakers  had  followed  courses  of  instruction  and  demon 
stration  given  at  the  hospitals  to  test  her  competence  for 
such  duties.  Often  these  novices  were  found  in  wards  as 
helpers,  dispensing  cheer,  distributing  flowers  and  dainties, 
reading  at  bedsides  and  to  larger  groups,  thus  making  their 
later  ministrations  in  their  own,  homes  more  effective. 
Some  of  the  more  hardy  of  them  even  attended  operations 
and  became  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  blood,  while  all  be 
came  familiar  by  objective  demonstration  methods  with 
first-aid  treatment  for  many  kinds  of  emergencies,  as  well 
as  of  the  newly-born,  the  preparation  and  serving  of  food 
for  the  sick,  the  use  of  simple  home  medicaments,  and  thus 
they  were  given  more  or  less  proficiency  in  all  we  need  for 
our  Red  Cross  service. 

All  the  larger  of  these  hospitals  had  an  academic  func 
tion  which  in  the  best  of  them  was  the  core  and  heart  of  all 


108       RECBEATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

their  work.  Here  the  biological  sciences  were  taught,  each 
with  a  more  or  less  sharply  defined  practical  focus  in  eu 
genics,  which  might  perhaps  be  called  the  religion  of  these 
institutions.  Botany  and  all  the  methods  of  cross-fertiliza 
tion  were  taught  in  open  gardens,  hot-houses,  and  labora 
tories.  In  zoology  the  basis  of  heredity  and  transmission 
of  life  in  the  animal  world  led  up  to  human  anatomy, 
physiology,  and  hygiene,  a  field  in  which  human  evolution 
culminates.  Here  was  a  field  for  which  young  women  had 
special  tastes  and  aptitudes,  somewhat  as  young  men  had 
in  physical  and  mechanical  sciences. 

In  this  state  of  affairs,  it  seemed  almost  as  if  woman, 
after  the  first  flush  of  the  nubile  instinct  to  attract  favor 
able  attention  to  herself  had  attained  its  goal  and  faded, 
shunned  all  publicity  and  sought  to  limit  her  sphere  of 
activity  to  those  in  her  own  immediate  environment.  Most 
seemed  to  prefer  anonymity  for  even  their  best  achieve 
ments,  almost  as  if  they  had  accepted  the  ancient  slogan 
now  so  often  heard  and  attributed  to  man  that  "those  are 
the  best  women  of  whom  least  is  heard."  Certainly  there 
was  no  rivalry  of  sex  against  sex,  but  rather  each  was 
recognized  as  the  inspirer  of  most  of  the  best  traits  in  the 
other.  The  women  most  revered  were  those  who  bore 
and  reared  to  maturity  the  most  and  best  children,  and  in 
these  their  " epistles  known  and  read  of  all  men"  they  took 
their  chief  pride  and  found  their  chief  honor.  Unostenta 
tious  as  they  were,  they  came  thus  to  wield  an  influence 
upon  Atlantean  affairs  far  greater  than  they  have  ever 
wielded  in  any  civilization  of  our  era.  In  no  land  and 
age  that  we  know  has  woman  been  so  revered  or  so  sympa 
thetically  and  devotedly  served.  The  very  recognition  of 
the  all-dominance  of  unconscious  factors  in  the  human 
psyche  which  we  are  just  beginning  to  attain  gave  to  woman 
as  the  better  embodiment  of  it  than  man  a  unique  preemi 
nence.  That  civilization  is  best,  they  felt  and  said,  in 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  109 

which  woman  can  be  kept  at  her  highest  and  best  estate, 
and  the  best  criterion  of  human  institutions  is  how  much 
it  contributes  to  this  end.  "Woman's  naive  intuitions  were, 
in  a  word,  regarded  as  almost  the  sole  and  only  guide 
given  to  man  to  direct  and  impel  him  upward  in  the  path 
of  progress. 

The  decline  from  her  high  estate  was  gradual  and  almost 
imperceptible  at  first  and  involved  so  many  factors  and 
stages  that  it  is  hard  to  tell  just  when,  how,  or  where  it 
began,  or  what  chiefly  led  to  it,  significant  as  it  is  for  us 
of  this  era  to  ascertain.  Sometimes  men  grew  jealous  of 
woman's  property  rights,  which  under  the  operation  of 
conditions  here  often  made  her  holdings  more  than  those 
of  her  husband.  Some  of  the  latter  grew  jealous  of 
woman 's  great  and  growing  influence  over  childhood  and 
youth.  Others  deemed  her  moral  censorship  too  exiguous 
and  too  severe.  When,  and  before,  the  "medicos"  revolted 
they  resented  her  efforts  to  assume  some  of  their  aban 
doned  functions.  For  her  efforts  to  mitigate  the  woes 
caused  by  the  defection  of  the  representatives  of  law  and 
order,  of  education,  and  of  the  priesthood,  she  incurred 
the  disfavor  of  all  these  recalcitrant  orders. 

But  before,  and  beneath,  all  these  causes  a  subtle  degen 
eration  had  begun  within  the  sex  itself.  Slowly  and  with 
succeeding  generations  the  high  ideals  of  motherhood  began 
to  suffer  impairment.  The  number  of  those  who  would  not, 
or  could  not,  bear  children  increased.  As  with  us  wars 
and  great  social  or  political  convulsions  that  decimate 
the  males  are  followed  by  an  increased  percentage  of  male 
births,  while  in  long  periods  of  peace  females  predominate, 
so  in  Atlantis  during  the  many  centuries  of  tranquillity 
that  followed  her  mastery  of  the  world  as  it  then  was, 
there  came  to  be  a  marked  and  ever-increasing  predomi 
nance  of  women  which  even  the  advanced  scientists  of  that 
day  could  not  check  at  first,  although,  as  we  shall  see,  they 


110       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

learned  to  do  so  later,  and  with  the  exception  above  noted 
monogamy  was  too  firmly  established  to  be  successfully 
challenged  by  any  scheme  of  plurality  of  wives.  Woman, 
thwarted  in  the  attainment  of  her  true  goal  as  wife  and 
mother,  becomes  restless,  goes  in  quest  of  surrogate  ends, 
and  may  come  honestly  to  spurn  in  all  her  conscious 
processes  the  very  thing  that  the  depth  of  her  soul,  if  she 
only  knew  it,  cries  out  for.  Thus  more  and  more  she  came 
to  seek  other  careers  than  that  of  motherhood.  Some  lapsed 
to  flippant  coquetry,  seeking  attention  without  intention. 
Some  few  sold  themselves  to  sensual  men.  More  sold  their 
services,  rivaling,  and  sometimes  displacing  men  in  the 
competition  for  positions,  and  while  thus  entering  ever 
new  fields  as  man's  rival,  demanding  all  the  courtesies, 
deferences,  and  amenities  accorded  her  in  the  ancient 
regime  of  the  mothers.  They  demanded,  and  after  a  long 
struggle  won,  admission  to  the  "houses"  and  the  "courts 
of  honor/'  disparaged  and  flouted  many  of  the  activities 
taught  and  practiced  in  the  hospitals,  broke  ruthlessly 
away  from  the  old  customs  of  dress  and  deportment,  and 
strove  long  and  earnestly  everywhere  to  make  their  sex  a 
sect.  Many  who  wed,  bore  no,  or  at  most  one  or  two,  chil 
dren,  who  were  more  liable  to  bear  through  life  the  well- 
known  physical  and  psychic  stigmata  of  inferiority  so 
common  among  only  children. 

Longer  and  more  bitter  than  the  struggle  between  men 
and  women  was  that  between  the  fully  and  the  half-sexed 
women,  in  which  the  latter  had  many  advantages.  The 
former,  indeed,  had  nothing  to  gain  and  everything  to  lose. 
The  latter  demanded  the  right  to  use  man's  attire ;  to  enter 
even  the  army  under  their  own  officers;  to  be  wardens  of 
the  street,  magistrates,  counsellors  of  state,  heads  of  local 
government;  to  man  ships,  run  public  and  all  vehicles  of 
transportation;  loved  the  platform  and  processions;  while 
some  became  engineers,  priests,  professors  and  statesmen, 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  111 

insisting  that  as  the  mothers  had  been  the  paramount  sex 
under  the  old,  so  they,  the  new  women,  should  be  under 
the  new  dispensation.  Laws  they  deemed  unjust  they  os 
tentatiously  violated,  and  if  taken  into  custody,  drew  about 
them  the  mantle  of  the  injured  dignity  of  their  sex  and 
insisted  upon  all  the  deference  shown  the  mothers  of  old; 
while  if  the  stern  methods  invoked  for  male  offenders  were 
resorted  to,  they  took  refuge  in  hysteria,  voluntary  starva 
tion,  or  patheticism.  Those  who  did  not,  or  could  not,  have 
men  of  their  own  to  serve  them  became  even  more  mannish 
in  all  their  ways,  works,  and  ideals,  and  often  cursed  the 
fates  that  had  made  them  women.  As  time  passed,  some 
of  the  mothers  themselves  became  infected  with  these  ideals 
and  laid  aside  their  femininity  to  become  feminists.  The 
home  was  no  longer  the  center  of  their  interests,  and  they 
broke  away  into  the  open  and  sought  a  new  thrill  in  the 
hustings,  or  before  the  footlights,  or  harangued  in  the 
streets,  or  led  attacks  by  the  "direct  method"  upon  indus 
tries  or  man-made  institutions  which  they  disapproved,  till 
insurance  agencies  were  established  against  their  wild  and 
unpredictable  depredations  and  sabotage.  Everywhere,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  were  conservative  counselors  of  pru 
dence,  moderation,  and  appeals  to  the  old  order.  Many 
matrons  broke  with  the  traditions  of  centuries  to  make 
public  reclamation  against  violence  of  conduct  or  extreme 
views,  but  only  thus  drew  upon  their  heads  more  bitter 
objurgations.  They  were  denounced  as  defenders  of  anti 
quated  customs  and  ideals  and  traitors  to  their  sex,  advo 
cates  of  the  old  male  tyranny,  and  were  generally  silenced 
because  they  could  not,  or  would  not,  compete  in  stridency 
with  the  less  scrupulous  and  more  fanatical  activities  of 
the  more  radical  innovators.  They,  it  was  said,  were 
naive  and  unsuspecting  victims  of  a  long  and  deep-laid 
plot  of  subjection  by  man  and  were  twice  to  be  pitied,  once 
for  their  simplicity  in  not  realizing  their  subserviency,  and 


112       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

again  and  yet  more,  for  consenting  to  play  the  role  assigned 
them  after  its  real  nature  had  been  disclosed  to  them. 

To  meet  these  new  emergencies  thus  forced  upon  them  the 
men  were,  if  possible,  less  prepared  and  more  impotent  than 
were  the  mothers.  They  faltered,  hesitated,  tried  alter 
nately  coercion  and  severity,  persuaded,  coaxed,  threatened, 
made  some  cases  examples  of  leniency  and  others  of  all 
the  harshness  of  the  law,  for  men  now  listened  to  the  many 
and  voluminous  appeals,  petitions  and  resolutions,  and  now 
turned  a  deaf  ear  to  them,  or  strove  to  appeal  to  reason 
and  prudence.  But  all  was  in  vain,  for  the  tide  seemed  fast 
growing  too  strong  to  be  stemmed.  They  sought  wisdom  in 
counsel,  but  failed  to  find  it,  and  womankind  seemed  fast 
drifting  toward  open  revolt.  It  was  as  if  she  were  striving 
to  make  her  rule  supreme  in  every  walk  of  life.  Often 
the  defection  extended  to  the  home,  and  wife  and  daughter 
or  both  became,  over  night,  as  it  were,  new  creatures,  with 
a  new  nature  and  a  new  stock  of  opinions,  arguments,  and 
above  all,  new  demands.  Thus  many  households  were  dis 
rupted,  and  many  a  union  of  married  partners  where  quiet 
and  happiness  had  reigned  for  years  was  broken  up.  Not 
a  few  men  capitulated  and  fell  into  line,  either  from  con 
viction,  expediency,  or  love  of  comfort  and  harmony,  and 
proclaimed  their  readiness  to  concede  all.  Thus  it  came 
to  pass  that  Atlantis  slowly  fell  again  under  feminine  do 
minion,  although  in  a  new  and  very  different  sense  from 
that  of  yore,  for,  whereas  woman  once  dominated  by  "  sweet 
ness  and  light,"  by  inherent  merit  and  virtue,  now  it  was 
by  coercion  and  vociferation.  Once  she  attained  all  while 
claiming  nothing ;  she  now  demanded  all  and  far  more  than 
she  had  ever  sought  before,  and  seemed  in  a  fair  way  to 
attain  everything. 

Woman  had  protested  against  all  the  great  revolts  above 
described,  and  when  each  great  group  of  these  institutions 
had  ceased  to  function  by  its  own  act,  she  had  come  to  feel 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  113 

deeply  that  there  was  something  essentially  mistaken  in 
man's  efforts  to  improve  his  estate.  Thus  the  disasters  of 
the  times  naturally  deepened  her  distrust  of  his  manage 
ment  of  the  world.  Thus,  too,  when  at  first  the  structure 
of  religion  fell  and  its  leaders  withdrew,  she  felt,  as  woman 
never  had  so  much  cause  to  feel  before,  that  all  was  lost 
unless  she  could  find  and  lead  a  program  of  restoration. 
Perhaps  if  she  had  fallen  hack  upon  her  own  deeper  in 
stincts  or  harked  back  to  the  old  order  and  striven  to 
restore  it  instead  of  turning  to  external  and  more  mechani 
cal  methods  of  restoration,  there  might  still  have  been 
hope.  But  at  the  critical  moment,  when  she  was  the  for 
lorn  hope,  she,  too,  following  the  all-dominating  trend  of 
events,  had  looked  without  and  not  within,  and  in  making 
this  fatal  mistake  man's  last  hope  took  flight  from  the 
world.  Slowly  as  she  won  her  victorious  way  to  domi 
nance  throughout  the  land,  all  the  easier  because  man  him 
self  was  so  profoundly  conscious  of  failure  in  the  convul 
sions  and  disasters  which  followed  the  downfall  of  each 
of  the  great  culture  institutions  he  created,  woman,  too,  be 
gan  to  lose  confidence,  even  in  the  hour  of  her  completest 
triumph.  She,  too,  began  to  feel  incompetent  to  cope  with 
the  forces  of  degeneration.  She  now  had  her  will  but 
found  it  both  weak  and  without  confident  aim.  Indeed, 
there  was  a  moment  when  the  mothers,  had  their  insight 
been  clearer  and  their  resolve  more  resolute,  might  per 
haps  have  saved  the  day.  But  even  if  so,  it  was  now  too 
late.  Nor  would  it  avail  to  appeal  again  to  man,  whom 
they  had  evicted  from  his  true  place.  There  could  be  no 
longer  help  from  him,  for  he  was  too  disheartened  by  the 
collapse  of  his  own  handiwork  to  be  of  any  aid. 

The  gods  were  forgotten,  gone,  or  probably  dead;  the 
vigor  of  the  human  race,  sapped;  even  Mother  Earth 
was  less  fertile,  the  land  deforested,  and  mines  exhausted; 
the  enterprise  of  industry  had  vanished ;  families  were  dy- 


114       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ing  of  race  suicide  and  the  entire  population  was  ravaged 
by  manifold  diseases;  property  and  even  land  tenure  was 
becoming  ever  less  secure;  and  mutual  suspicion,  envy, 
jealousy,  malice,  and  revenge  often  had  free  course  and 
piety  was  deemed  folly.  The  physique  and  even  the  aver 
age  stature  of  the  people  declined,  while  symmetry,  grace, 
and  beauty  in  man  and  women  became  more  and  more  in 
frequent.  Some  women  had  led  in  the  foundation  of  rural 
communities  on  various  agrarian,  social,  civic,  domestic,  and 
other  novel  plans,  hoping  by  getting  back  again  to  Nature 
and  making  a  fresh  start  thus  to  retrieve  their  moribund 
race  or  at  least  thus  to  find  respite  for  themselves  from 
a  reality  too  grim  and  full  of  foreboding  to  be  faced.  But 
as  the  twilight  of  the  race  darkened,  these  sporadic  com 
munities  served  only  as  dim  beacons,  which  gave  little  light, 
as  the  sun  of  Atlantis  hastened  in  its  setting,  to  guide  man 's 
faltering  steps. 

Never  had  the  sum  of  human  misery  been  so  great  in 
the  world.  Happiness  there  was  none,  and  feasting  and 
gross  pleasures  were  often  fanatically  grasped  to  sustain 
the  soul  amidst  the  wreckage.  Love,  even  between  man 
and  woman,  grew  cold,  and  rancor  and  enmity  often  took 
their  place  as  each  held  the  other  responsible  for  the  woe 
ful  conditions. 

Then  came  the  great  revolt  or  emut  of  the  women.  It 
was  not  strange  that  many  mothers,  as  the  fortunes  of  the 
land  sank  so  low,  had  individually  refused  to  bear  more 
children,  since  living  had  lost  all  that  made  it  worth  while. 
Taking  their  cue  from  the  new  women,  who  were  not  like 
the  mothers  who  had  sunk  to  despair  and  heart-sickness, 
but  sought  to  feed  fat  their  inveterate  hate  against  man 
and  to  complete  his  subjection,  they  planned  and  organized 
secret  sodalities  of  the  wed  and  unwed,  who  took  the  solemn 
vow  of  both  celibacy  and  chastity.  When  the  Atlanteans 
learned  later,  as  we  have  not  learned,  how  to  control  sex 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  115 

before  birth,  some  extremists  urged  that  only  girls  or  a 
greater  preponderance  of  them  consistent  with  race  per 
petuation  be  allowed ;  but  this  proposal,  which  at  first  met 
with  some  favor,  proved  abortive  in  the  end.  Others 
thought  the  very  threat  of  such  a  step  would  bring  men  to 
terms  with  certain  pet  whims  and  hobbies  of  their  own 
which  they  wished  to  impose  on  them,  and  were  dismayed 
and  even  sought  to  cancel  their  vow  when  the  men  refused 
to  capitulate.  It  was  those  who  took  these  vows  precipi 
tately  for  ruse,  bluff,  or  transient  pique  toward  lovers  or 
spouses,  who  gave  most  trouble  to  the  leaders  who  were  in 
grim  earnest.  Despite  these  and  other  obstacles,  these  so 
dalities  multiplied,  and  in  the  short  space  of  a  few  years 
were  found  in  each  community  and  embraced  most  of  the 
women  in  it.  Thus  it  was  that  a  strike  of  matrons  like 
that  fabled  to  have  occurred  in  ancient  Eome,  which  Zel- 
ler  describes,  and  which  soon  brought  the  recalcitrant  Sen 
ate  to  accede  to  their  demands,  was  organized  throughout 
the  land  and  grew  more  determined  and  implacable.  Man 
sought  both  consciously  and  unconsciously  to  reenforce  his 
refusal  to  yield  by  seeking  to  restore  in  his  soul  all  the  an 
tique  horror  of  homosexuality  and  even  incest,  which  was 
more  potent  of  old  in  Atlantis  than  ever  in  our  era,  as 
described  by  Ranke,  and  to  direct  it  all  against  the  half- 
sexed  women.  So  effective,  however,  was  this  taboo  woman 
had  placed  upon  her  sex  that  in  a  decade,  we  are  told,  the 
rate  of  increase  of  population  declined  nearly  one  thousand 
fold,  and  most  of  the  very  few  who  were  born  were  either 
Illegitimate  or  condemned  to  wear  the  bar  sinister,  never 
Bo  damning  as  in  Atlantis,  or  else  had  sprung  from  parents 
who  were  social  outcasts.  Thus  as  the  years  passed,  the 
population  grew  old  and  died.  Cities  were  depopulated 
and  the  grass  grew  in  streets  once  thronged,  while  build 
ings  and  institutions  decayed  and  wild  animals  lurked  in 


116       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

the  ruins,  and  the  living  could  hardly  inter  the  dead.  The 
few  children  led  lives  of  indescribable  pathos,  were  pitied 
by  all,  and  occasionally  even  slain  by  their  parents  as  a 
solemn  act  of  mercy. 


vm 


THE  LAST  SCENES  AND  DAYS  OF  ATLANTIS 

MEANWHILE  the  whole  island-continent  had  been  slowly 
sinking.  The  sea  had  engulfed  many  a  wide  and  once 
populous  plain.  Here  water  gradually  filled  the  cellars  and 
streets  and  the  people  took  to  Venetian  ways  of  transport 
and  evacuation.  There  it  was  possible  in  a  smooth  sea  and 
on  a  clear  day  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  inundated  buildings 
beneath  the  waves.  Elsewhere  earthquakes  had  caused 
sudden  submergence  and  tidal  waves  had  swept  away  whole 
communities  and  left  only  ghastly  ruins  and  debris;  while 
Atlantis  was  becoming  an  archipelago  of  islands]  once 
united.  Wild  beasts  multiplied,  and,  like  men,  were  con 
centrated  by  the  rising  waters  and  made  their  lairs  in 
what  had  once  been  the  homes  of  men,  and,  having  de 
stroyed  the  flocks,  they  strove  to  subject  feralized  men  to 
their  old  dominion. 

Here  and  there  families  or  groups  of  them  constructed 
or  equipped  vessels  or  arks  in  which  they  put  all  they  held 
dear,  and  trusting  their  fortunes  to  the  sea,  trekked  out 
into  its  boundless  domain.  Most  of  these  venturers  were 
wrecked;  others  were  marooned  or  made  a  landing,  after 
desperate  and  decimating  hardships,  upon  the  far  colonial 
shores  which  we  know  as  Yucatan,  Peru,  and  Mexico,  while 
some  even  reached  China,  Egypt,  and  Crete,  or  their 
descendants  made  mounds  in  America.  But  the  race  was 
moribund,  and  we  of  to-day  can  only  trace  with  the  great 
est  uncertainty  a  few  faint  vestiges  of  their  presence  even 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  117 

in  these  lands  in  our  era  which  the  overbold  and  perfervid 
imagination  and  ingenuity  of  Ignatius  Donnelly  has  vainly 
sought  to  validate.  The  chief  bequest  all  these  widely  scat 
tered  and  transient  colonies  have  left  in  our  era  is  the  tra 
ditions  of  a  great  flood,  which  as  Andree  has  shown,  are 
found  in  every  land  accessible  to  Atlantis  from  Chaldea  to 
Central  America  and  are  best  found  in  those  regions  once 
most  easily  reached  from  Atlantis. 

On  most  of  the  far-flung  northern  coasts  of  Atlantis 
countless   vast  ice-floes  and  bergs  were  brought  by  the 
pelagic  currents  of  a  system  of  which  the  present  configura 
tion  of  land  and  sea  has  left  no  trace.    With  the  increasing 
cold  of  this  era  these  stranded  bergs  were  reenforced  by 
glaciers  that  crept  downward  from  the  northern  mountain 
slopes,  and  also  by  the  ice-packs  that  extended  miles  from 
the  shore  and  the  sheet-ice  brought  down  from  the  rivers, 
and  thus  bays  and  gulfs  were  so  filled  that  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  for  centuries  the  tip  of  the  Arctic  ice-cap 
bridged  the  strait  that  had  formerly  separated  Atlantis 
from  Greenland.    Certain  it  was  that  glaciation  came  to  ex 
tend  much  farther  south  than  at  any  point  where  it  has 
left  its  vestiges  upon  any  of  the  continents  as  we  know 
them.     This  secular  advance  of  boreal  climatic  conditions 
not  only  brought  many  of  the  modifications  and  redistribu 
tions  of  fauna  and  flora  in  these  regions  but  involved  many 
changes  in  human  life.    The  inhabitable  and  tillable  areas 
were  restricted,  and  hence  there  were  treks  of  hordes  of 
rude  and  hardy  Northmen  into  the  more  populous  and  ad 
vanced  south,  somewhat  as  the  desiccation  of  the  trans- 
Caspian  lands  once  drove  waves  of  Huns  and  Vandals  west 
into  Europe.    These  Atlantean  Norsemen,  if  they  may  be 
so  called,  were,  however,  only  slightly  less  advanced  in  all 
the  arts  of  civilization  than  were  their  fellow-countrymen 
of  the  south,  and  they  brought  a  fresh  and  hardy  strain 
of  blood.    Thus  with  them  came  invigoration,  which  for  a 


118       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

long  period  retarded  the  processes  of  decline  in  the  central 
regions,  just  as  had  happened  eons  before  when  Antarctic 
conditions  had  slowly  advanced  from  the  south.  Human 
migrations  by  land  had  thus  here  been  chiefly  north  and 
south  and  not  mainly  westward,  with  slight  refluent  eddies 
toward  the  east,  as  in  our  cycle,  and  these  movements  con 
tributed  greatly  to  the  homogeneity  of  the  aboriginally 
very  diverse  Atlantean  people. 

Great  mountain  chains  and  ranges  extended  north  and 
south  throughout  central  Atlantis  from  the  northern  to  the 
southern  zone,  some  of  which  were,  of  old,  snow-capped 
in  midsummer  under  the  equator.  They  represented  the 
Plutonic  activity  which  in  the  far  back  pretertiary  time 
had  first  elevated  this  land  above  the  primeval  sea.  Along 
these  ranges  there  were  many  long-ago  extinct  volcanoes. 
During  the  period  of  the  retreat  of  the  above  northern 
glaciation  more  and  more  of  these  ended  their  period  of 
quiescence  and  broke  out  in  fresh  eruptions.  Here  and 
there,  from  this  and  that  summit,  belched  forth  fire,  lava, 
and  ash  which  had  buried  cities,  as  in  our  era  Vesuvius 
overwhelmed  Pompeii.  Some  of  these  cities  the  Atlanteans 
had  excavated  after  millennia,  while  others  still  await,  now 
far  beneath  the  waves,  the  resurrection  that  will  never 
come.  During  all  this  age  the  land  was  slowly  sinking. 
Here  and  there  dikes  which  had  been  constructed  to  re 
sist  the  encroachments  of  the  sea  were  broken  down  in 
some  fierce  storm,  once  fertile  valleys  were  inundated  and 
houses  swept  away,  cities  demolished,  and  thousands  swept 
to  death.  Never  since  man  appeared  on  the  earth  had  Nep 
tune  and  Pluto  waged  such  terrific  war.  Atlantis  included 
all  those  regions  of  the  earth  on  which  man  had  himself 
fully  evolved,  and  here  he  wrought  out  his  civilization, 
which  culminated  in  the  eocene  dawn  of  the  tertiary  age. 
Here  alone  had  men  seen  many  of  the  animal  forms  long 
extinct  for  us  which  we  therefore  call  prehistoric.  Here 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  119 

once  the  saurians  and  megatheria  had  most  abounded,  and 
here  only  had  some  of  them  lingered  on  till  half,  if  not 
fully,  human  beings  appeared,  so  that  the  oldest  draconian 
myths  have  a  vestigial  kernel  of  actual  human  experience 
behind  them.  Here,  though  much  earlier,  porpoises,  dolphins, 
walruses,  seals,  and  whales,  probably  in  this  order,  after  a 
long  interlude  of  terrestrial  life,  had  reverted  as  back 
sliders  to  their  first  love  of  the  sea,  and  the  closing  scenes 
of  this  process  were  accelerated  by  the  great  submergencies 
that  now  seemed  coming  again.  Thus,  once  more,  we  see 
that  the  primitive  Atlanteans  were  closer  to  the  great  moral 
of  the  lives  of  the  megatheria,  which  perished  because  of 
hyperindividuation  or  because  they  had  to  give  all  their 
time  and  energy  to  finding,  consuming,  and  assimilating 
nutriment  for  their  own  gigantic  bulks  and  could  give  no 
thought  or  care  to  their  young  or  even  to  their  eggs.  All 
creatures  that  had  aquatic  stages  in  their  phyletic  evolu 
tion  tended  to  relapse  toward  it,  and  many  forms  that 
had  lately  left  the  amphibean  stage  reverted  to  it. 

"When  the  water  reached,  and  poured  into,  the  deep  pits 
above  described  that  drew  power  from  the  central  heat 
of  the  earth,  there  were  explosions  of  often  volcanic  vio 
lence,  and  the  pits  became  new  craters,  while  earthquakes 
rocked  and  tore  open  the  earth,  as  also  occurred  when  some 
of  the  volcanoes  sank  beneath  the  sea  still  spouting  flames. 
Sometimes  new  islands  rose  from  the  sea  over  night, 
only  gradually  or  suddenly  to  sink  again.  Water-fowl  in 
creased,  and  many  species  of  land  bird,  one  after  another, 
as  if  sensing  danger  from  afar  and  after  a  season  of  per 
haps  long  perturbation,  assembled  in  great  flocks,  and  cir 
cling  high  in  the  air  and  with  plaintive  cries  took  their  de 
parture  over  the  waste  of  waters  in  quest  of  new  and  more 
settled  conditions  of  life.  This  goal  some  may  have  reached, 
although  it  is  probable  that  most  were  lost.  At  any  rate, 
they  were  seen  no  more  in  Atlantis,  once  so  rich  in  avion 


120       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

life.  As  these  departures  of  the  feathered  tribes,  of  which 
Atlantis  had  been  a  veritable  paradise,  became  more  and 
more  frequent  and  better  understood,  the  ill  omen  they 
boded  came  to  be  more  and  more  depressing  to  the  inhab 
itants.  ''What  does  this  betoken  for  us?"  they  said  or  far 
more  often  silently  thought. 

Wild  animals  that  had  been  few  multiplied,  and  most 
domesticated  species  that  had  not  died  of  the  plagues  that 
fell  upon  them  or  been  decimated  by  beasts  of  prey  them 
selves  relapsed  to  their  original  feral  state.  Thus  many 
dogs  grew  wolf -like  and  cats  became  large  and  fierce,  while 
sheep  and  goats  retired  again  to  the  mountains  whence 
they  had  come,  and  flocks  of  horses,  cattle,  and  pigs  were 
seen  on  the  plains  where  grain  and  maize  once  flourished  or 
in  the  forests,  which  were  steadily  encroaching  upon  the 
crop  areas ;  while  many  men  reverted  to  the  pristine  stage 
of  the  hunter  and  fisherman.  Sometimes  packs  of  wolves 
attacked  and  almost  depopulated  outlying  villages,  and 
great  felidae  and  troops  of  mammoths  boldly  invaded  even 
the  outskirts  of  cities. 

Most  dreaded  of  all  were  the  troops  of  great  manlike 
apes,  more  sagacious  and  more  formidable  than  any  of  the 
four  higher  species  we  know,  and  which  were  the  direct 
progenitors  of  men.  Their  special  quest  was  not  adult 
men  but  women,  children,  and  even  infants,  whom  they 
carried  off  and  reared  and  who  often  lost  the  power  of 
speech  and  sometimes  became  leaders  of  ape  tribes,  com 
pensating  for  their  inferiority  in  strength  and  agility  in 
tree-tops  by  their  superior  cunning.  Some  of  these  stolen 
female  humans  even  became  fertile  with  the  apes,  and  the 
crossed  offspring  of  these  unions  were  particularly  dreaded, 
for  they  seemed  chiefly  bent  on  carrying  maidens  into  the 
jungle,  from  which  they  rarely  emerged  again.  Some  of 
these  female  anthropoids  became  vampire-like  seducers  of 
men.  The  unspeakable  orgies  in  which  these  creatures  led 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  121 

them  left  only  very  suppressed  and  distorted  vestiges  in 
our  tales  of  sirens,  bacchantes,  Walpurgis  Night  revels, 
tales  of  Venusberg,  Buddhist  rites  and  superstitions,  and 
the  legends  of  the  sons  of  gods  mating  with  the  daughters 
of  men.  The  foul  females  of  this  new  race  found  their 
way  by  night  into  the  haunts  of  men  to  lure  them  to  their 
embrace,  and  as  the  Atlantean  females  of  the  later  era  grew 
more  mannish  and  unattractive,  this  quest  was  sometimes 
successful.  Some  members  of  this  novel  breed  could  hardly 
be  distinguished  from  human  beings  save  only  by  the  fact 
that  they  had  a  usually  very  carefully  concealed  caudal 
appendage  which  was  the  chief  mark  of  their  pithecoid 
strain.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  last  great  and  con 
certed  struggle  in  which  all  the  Atlanteans  were  united 
was  against  these  semi-simians.  A  crusade  had  long  been 
directed  against  them,  especially  by  the  Atlantean  women 
of  both  the  new  and  the  old  types.  The  war  began  in  a 
city  of  the  south  where  the  pithecoid  aggressions  had  been 
peculiarly  bold  and  cruel.  The  archon  of  this  city,  which 
was  named  Sikas,  summoned  all  to  array  themselves  either 
on  the  side  of  the  humans  or  the  sub-humans,  and  he  was 
amazed  to  see  the  strength  marshaled  on  the  side  of  the 
enemy,  which  was  also  well  organized  and  well  led.  It  was 
a  war  of  extermination  in  which  no  quarter  was  given  or 
asked.  Besides  the  two  armies  on  the  plain,  men  and 
women,  and  even  children,  fought  in  nearly  every  street 
and  alley.  All  day  the  battle  raged,  but  at  its  close  the 
simians  and  their  human  allies  were  completely  routed  and 
mercilessly  slaughtered,  and  their  survivors  fled  like  skulk 
ing  fugitives.  Other  cities  followed  until  the  warfare 
spread  to  every  hamlet,  and  fortunately  everywhere  the 
Atlanteans  were  victorious,  for  nowhere  was  the  foe  so 
strongely  entrenched  as  in  Sikas.  So  intense  was  the  fury 
with  which  this  war  was  waged  that  for  years  every  simian 
or  quarter-simian  found  in  the  land  was  summarily  slain. 


122       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

In  some  waste  areas  where  the  submergence  was  rapid, 
men  and  animals  were  often  crowded  together  on  hilltops, 
and  there  were  sanguinary  conflicts  of  claws  and  fangs 
versus  knives  and  fists,  there  were  desperate  struggles  for 
the  summit  of  rocks  as  well  as  trees  and  housetops,  while  all 
things  that  could  float  were  fought  for ;  but  most  of  those 
who  won  them  and  drifted  off  sank  later  with  bubbling 
groan  or  were  devoured  by  the  huge  sharks,  which  we  call 
antediluvian,  that  now  swarmed  in  all  the  Atlantean  wa 
ters.  Here  geysers  spouted  hot  water  that  filled  the  air 
with  steam,  killing  every  green  thing,  there  buildings  sank 
slowly  or  rapidly  as  in  quicksands,  subterranean  waters 
oozed  through  the  softened  earth  beneath  them,  and  there 
were  earthquakes  that  wrought  their  devastations  and 
brought  their  characteristic  panics. 

It  was  strange  to  see  men  and  women  who  had  long  for 
gotten  the  old  gods  now  pray  to  all  of  them,  while  here 
and  there  peasants  sacrificed  not  only  of  their  flocks  but 
their  first-born  children  on  crumbling  altars.  Of  old  those 
who  believed  in  the  deities  thought  them  above  and  when 
they  implored  them  it  was  with  upward  faces  and  arms 
raised  supine,  and  moreover  they  were  deemed  good.  Now 
all  the  deities  invoked  were  thought  to  dwell  in  the  nether 
regions,  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  or  sea,  and  were 
deemed  malign.  All  worship  now  was  solely  inspired  by 
fear  and  its  motive  was  propitiation  to  avert  or  find  a 
vicariate  for  divine  wrath.  As  the  tides  rose,  all  forms  of 
burial  rites  ceased  and  corpses  were  consigned  to  the  waves 
as  soon  as  life  was  extinct. 

As  the  awful  drama  drew  toward  its  close,  there  were 
left  only  a  few  mountain  tops  and  highlands  near  and  afar 
as  islands  in  the  waste  of  waves.  On  these  were  gathered 
all  the  men  and  beasts  that  had  survived.  Some  of  these 
elevations  suddenly  belched  fire  and  swept  away  every  liv 
ing  thing  upon  them.  On  others,  starving  men  and  beasts 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  123 

fought  and  devoured  one  another  or  died  of  hunger  and 
thirst. 

At  length  all  the  higher  peaks  sank  and  only  the  lofty 
plateau  with  its  vast  solid  truncated  rock  was  left  whereon 
stood  the  temple  of  Neptune,  the  palace,  the  cathedral,  the 
statues,  and  many  other  marvelous  structures,  the  greatest 
architectural  achievements  of  man  upon  this  planet.  These 
alone  were  built  with  every  time-defying  device  that  the 
master  minds  of  Atlantis  in  her  prime  could  bring  to  bear 
upon  their  work,  and  if  the  most  destructive  agencies  that 
Nature  can  command  had  not  been  turned  against  them, 
they  would  to-day  have  been  the  marvels  of  our  world. 
Within  the  sacred  walls  that  enclosed  all  this  magnificence 
were  gathered  only  members  of  the  scribal  caste  and  the 
wise  men  they  had  selected,  excluding  all  the  hordes  of 
those  they  deemed  unfit  that  long  clamored  from  without 
and  who  were  finally  swept  away  by  the  rising  flood,  which 
for  a  few  final  years  made  all  that  was  left  in  Atlantis 
seem  like  a  wonderful  architectural  apparition  at  the  bot 
tom  of  a  shallow  sea,  from  which  it  was  protected  on  all 
sides  by  a  cofferdam.  Here  these  few  scores  of  men,  fore- 
thoughtfully  provisioned  as  if  for  a  long  siege,  lived  for 
months,  the  sole  survivors  of  their  race.  Here  they  grad 
ually  died  as  the  waters  very  slowly  rose  toward  the  sum 
mit  of  the  sea-wall  that  engirt  them. 

And  now  we  must  describe  what  is  recorded  as  if  in  a 
new  hand  in  the  microscopic  script  of  the  last  pages  of 
the  great  record  book,  which  it  was  the  chief  business  of 
these  hamics,  scribes,  or  archivists  to  write  and  preserve. 
Hamic  was  one  of  the  chief  founders  of  the  Atlantean  em 
pire.  Of  unknown,  but  almost  certainly  of  very  humble, 
origin  he  rose  by  virtue  and  sheer  ability  to  supreme 
power,  led  armies  east  and  west,  north  and  south,  com 
pleted  the  conquest  of  the  world,  and  with  able  coadjutors 
organized  and  gave  laws  to  mankind  and  was  given  almost 


124       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

divine  honors.  But  at  the  age  of  sixty  he  retired  from  all 
public  cares  to  devote  himself  to  study  and  meditation. 
The  great  and  sole  achievement  of  his  later  life  thus  was 
to  conceive  and  found  a  universal  library  that  should  con 
tain  every  manuscript,  book,  written  or  printed  matter, 
which  a  body  of  advisers,  two  in  each  department  of  knowl 
edge,  should  pronounce  worthy  of  preservation  and  whose) 
duty  it  also  was  to  grade  the  merit  of  everything  admitted. 
Thus  every  admission  of  a  production  to  the  probationary 
lists,  which  were  kept  open  for  five,  fifteen,  and  thirty 
years,  when  it  was  given  its  final  place,  was  a  most  coveted 
honor.  Despite  this  rigorous,  yet  liberal,  censorship,  as 
the  centuries  and  millennia  passed  the  collection  grew  in 
size  to  millions  of  final  entries.  All  this  material  was  sys 
tematically  arranged  and  kept  by  a  corps  of  clerks  in  a 
huge  rock-hewn  series  of  crypts  and  vaults  within,  and 
beneath,  the  vast  pyramid  above  described.  Of  all  this  the 
descendants  of  Hamic  were  long  the  sole  custodians,  but 
later  they  elected  others  of  the  most  eminent  ability  and 
learning  as  coadjutors  in  this  function,  which  became  one 
of  the  most  honorable  of  all  in  the  realm.  The  Atlanteans 
had  always  had  a  very  strong  historic  sense,  more  highly 
developed  than  anything  our  era  knows,  perhaps  because 
the  country  was  older,  and  all  regarded  the  recording  and 
conservation  of  the  archives  as  almost  a  sacred  function 
to  which  those  charged  with  it  were  bound  with  most 
solemn  oaths  to  set  down  all  and  only  the  truth  and  to  spare 
no  pains  in  ascertaining  it.  From  this  college  everything 
written  for  the  public,  printed,  or  published,  was  collected, 
and  all  the  many  outside  establishments  for  reproduction 
and  multiplication  of  copies  and  their  promulgation  were 
supervised.  Even  after  these  auxiliary  institutions  were  all 
submerged,  the  old  tradition  of  keeping  the  records  true 
and  full  through  every  vicissitude  and  to  the  end  was 
the  all-dominating  idea  of  every  member  of  this  caste,  a 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  125 

spirit  that  had  grown  strong,  with  an  increased  sense  of 
responsibility,  since  the  disastrous  period  of  history  began. 
It  was  they  who  had  gone  on  missions  far  and  wide,  re 
gardless  of  danger,  and  from  which  many  had  never  re 
turned,  in  order  to  note  at  first-hand  all  the  items  of  all 
the  above  calamities  that  befell  the  land.  Everywhere  pos 
sible  they  had  observed,  photographed,  transcribed,  com 
piled,  and  digested  testimony,  and  collaborated  with  each 
other  before  they  set  down  their  attest  on  the  flexible  gold 
leaves  in  which  they  were  to  be  transmitted  to  posterity. 
For  decades  there  had  been  no  women  in  this  sacred  en 
closure,  and  now  in  all  that  was  left  of  Atlantis  there  was, 
so  far  as  this  doomed  and  isolated  scribal  colony  knew, 
no  one  left  in  the  world  but  them.  Death  was  rapidly  re 
ducing  their  own  numbers  and  only  some  two-score  of  the 
old  archivists  were  left.  Thus  at  length,  upon  a  day  set 
beforehand,  they  met,  fasting  and  in  formal  and  solemn 
conclave  for  final  conference.  "We,"  they  said,  "are  the 
last  and  with  us  the  race  of  man  becomes  extinct.  How 
vain  and  futile  is  our  piety  to  record  that  which  no  eye 
will  ever  see.  If  our  country  is  the  victim  of  its  own  folly, 
it  is  we  who  have  been  the  greatest  fools  in  our  fanatical 
piety  for  records.  Let  us  open  all  the  now  sealed  alcoves 
and  stocks  of  our  library  to  the  sea  in  token  to  each  other 
that  we  died  disillusioned  and  that  all  our  work  may  perish 
with  us.  Let  us  eat,  drink,  and  feast  once  more  and  then 
greet  Death  with  a  cheer  and  a  final  curse  on  Life,  the  arch 
betrayer,  which  it  will  now  be  a  rapture  to  escape." 

This  latter  counsel  prevailed,  and  so  they  banqueted  in 
great  Neptune's  temple  and  pledged  each  other  in  wine. 
They  taunted  the  waters,  invoked  the  flood  to  come  soon, 
toasted  those  they  had  known  who  had  already  met  the 
Great  Deliverer,  drank  again  to  imprecations  of  justice, 
health,  long  life,  learning,  piety,  women,  in  drunken  rev 
elry,  consigning  all  their  own  work  and  that  of  their  pred- 


126       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ecessors  formally  to  Neptune,  their  bodies  to  his  finny 
tribe,  and  their  souls  to  the  infinite  void  out  of  which  the 
worlds  and  all  of  them  had  come. 

But  there  was  one  young  man  among  these  holy  sages, 
Zotes  by  name.  He  had  but  lately  come,  but  we  are  not 
told  how  or  why,  from  a  far-off  colony  east  of  Egypt,  and 
by  his  skill  and  learning  had  been  adopted  as  a  probationer 
by  the  sacred  scribal  college.  His  courageous  heart  sank 
within  him  as  he  listened  in  silence,  as  became  his  rank 
among  them,  to  these  carousals  and  resolutions  of  despair. 
In  his  childhood  he  had  heard  tales  of  far-off  Lemuria 
which  abounded  in  anthropoids  that  had  not  left  apehood 
but  had  shown  signs  of  slow  approximation  to  the  estate 
of  primitive  man.  Perhaps,  he  thought,  this  eastern  island 
continent  was  not  all  submerged  and  the  deluge  not  uni 
versal,  and  perhaps  some  time  here  another  race  of  men 
might  arise  and — such  is  the  irrepressible  buoyancy  of 
youthful  fancy — they  might,  ages  hence,  learn  of  Atlantis 
and  find  in  its  story  both  encouragement  and  wholesome 
warning  for  their  own  race.  In  such  reveries  Zotes  found 
some  consolation,  and  his  very  soul  revolted  at  the  senti 
ments  of  the  senescent  elders  who  were  ready  to  abandon 
all  they  and  their  forbears  for  more  than  ten  thousand 
generations  had  lived  for  (for  this  was  the  period  of  clear, 
continuous,  and  authentic  history,  while  the  beginnings 
had  extended  thousands  of  generations  farther  back) . 

So  while  they  caroused,  Zotes  stole  away,  and  all  night 
transcribed  on  a  new  golden  leaf  all  he  had  seen  and  heard 
of  the  great  conference  and  the  feast,  how  he  came  to  write, 
and  who  he  was  and  what  he  intended  to  do.  Then,  assum 
ing  that  he  completed  what  he  intended  and  what  the  find 
ings  of  our  expedition  show  to  have  been  done,  he  opened 
the  highest  and  only  unsealed  horizontal  door  into  the  high 
est  vault  of  the  vast  halls  of  books,  inserted  his  final  leaf, 
replaced  the  heavy  metallic  lid,  and  concealed  it  with  the 


THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTIS  127 

cement  left  after  closing  all  the  other  openings.  Then  we 
may  suppose  he  sat  down  and  calmly  awaited  the  inevitable 
end  when  the  waters  broke  down  the  enclosure  and  en 
gulfed  him  and  the  revelers  in  a  common  doom. 

We  have  waited  long,  oh,  Zotes!  but  not  in  vain.  Now 
that  we,  who  have  sprung  from  the  very  half -human  apes 
of  Lemuria,  whom  you  dreamed  of,  have  found  you  out, 
your  name  and  your  deed,  the  only  link  between  the  great 
est  era  of  the  world  and  our  own  stands  forth  unique  in 
all  the  world.  If,  as  you  fondly  hope  in  death,  we  can 
profit  by  the  lessons  and  warnings  that  have  now  come  up 
to  us  from  the  depths  of  the  sea,  we  owe  it  all  to  you.  Per 
haps  you  yourself,  without  knowing  it,  were  the  very  first 
human  product  of  Lemuria  and  our  forerunner.  Would 
that  we  might  thus  claim  you  as  of  our  era,  as  well  as  also 
the  youngest  and  last  of  the  Atlanteans  opening  to  us  a 
world  cycle  of  a  length  compared  to  which  ours  is  but  a 
few  short  years  of  which  we  should  have  known  nothing 
but  for  you,  and  which,  when  we  have  fully  exposed  it, 
promises  to  be  the  most  precious  possession  of  all  our 
culture. 


II 

HOW  JOBOTIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE1 

IT  was  Sunday  in  early  June  and  Johnnie  Smith  was 
fourteen  that  day.  He  was  as  commonplace  to  look  at 
as  his  name  was.  He  was  a  farmer's  son  and  had  worked 
at  planting  all  the  week  on  his  father's  farm,  a  mile  from 
the  village.  He  had  dutifully  ridden  to  church  in  the 
family  carry-all,  having  harnessed  and  hitched  up  the 
horses  himself  for  his  father  to  drive,  and  had  no  less  duti 
fully  attended  Sunday  School  with  his  brothers  and  sisters 
afterwards,  and  then  had  partaken  of  the  late  but  bounti 
ful  Sunday  dinner  always  served  at  two  P.  M.  As  there 
•was  no  supper  Sundays,  for  this  was  in  New  England  two 
generations  ago,  and  as  it  was  his  brother's  turn  to  help 
the  hired  man  milk  the  cows  and  do  the  other  chores  at 
night,  Johnnie  faced  a  whole  afternoon  of  leisure,  and  the 
problem  of  how  to  spend  it  weighed  somewhat  upon  his 
mind. 

He  was  a  sturdy,  old-fashioned  boy,  already  very  useful 
on  his  father's  large  farm,  for  he  could  milk  cows,  fodder 
sheep,  pigs,  calves  and  horses,  could  drive  ox  teams,  chop 
wood,  make  maple  sugar,  harvest,  could  break  young  steers, 
and,  in  fact,  could  do  almost  everything  that  a  man  could 
do  except  hold  a  plow,  and  train  fractious  colts  to  the  har 
ness.  The  last  two  winters,  when  his  father  had  been 
away  in  the  legislature,  with  the  help  of  a  neighbor's  husky 
son  he  and  his  brother  had  borne  the  entire  responsibility 
of  the  barns  and  stables  and  had  also  attended  schooL 

*  Partly  suggested  by  J.  Sadger's  TJeber  Nachtwandeln  und  Mond- 
sucht  (Leinzig,  1914)  and  Otto  Rank's  Der  Doppelgdnger  (Imago, 
1914) 

128 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      129 

But  how  dull  and  unsatisfactory  farm  life  was  to  him ! 
How  he  loathed  the  monotony  and  drudgery  of  it  all !  He 
was  at  the  age  when  nature  begins  to  whisper  the  wisdom 
of  all  the  ages  into  the  alert  ears  of  youth,  and  Johnnie  had 
ears  to  hear  and,  what  was  more,  he  pondered  the  message 
in  his  heart. 

His  mother  had  been  a  teacher  and  had  always  read  to 
the  father  and  the  boys  noons  and  evenings  and  always 
had  attractive  books  borrowed  from  the  little  town  library, 
and  she  alone  subtly  felt  and  unconsciously,  if  not  con 
sciously,  was  in  rapport  with  Johnnie's  ferment,  for  Na 
ture  had  given  her  some  insight  into  the  needs  of  pubescent 
years  and  she  had  grown  up  with  younger  brothers. 

Mother  and  son  had  lately  had  a  memorable  heart-to- 
heart  talk  in  which  Johnnie  expressed  his  yearning  to  get 
away  from  the  farm  and  make  more  of  himself  than  his 
father  and  uncles  had  made,  and  the  mother  had  even  sug 
gested  college  as  a  possible,  though  a  far-away,  goal.  John 
nie,  moreover,  although  he  breathed  no  word  of  this  and 
would  have  been  mortified  beyond  expression  if  he  suspected 
his  mother  divined  it,  was  profoundly  conscious  of  every 
thing  that  Ann,  a  neighbor's  eighteen-year-old  daughter, 
said  and  did.  How  much  of  his  life  centered  in  thoughts 
of  her !  But  neither  she  nor  Jennie,  his  flame  of  the  year 
before,  ever  suspected  the  state  of  his  heart.  He  had 
known  their  respective  brothers,  two  older  college  boys 
from  his  own  town,  and  noted  how  all  the  girls  "fell  for 
them. ' '  Thus  the  germs  of  both  ambition  and  of  love  were 
just  sprouting  from  the  richest  possible  soil ;  or,  to  change 
the  metaphor,  a  double  infection  fairly  seethed  and  fer 
mented  in  his  soul. 

His  father  had  also  attended  school  and  doubtless  had 
had  his  youthful  calentures.  But  they  all  seemed  to  have 
burned  out,  the  paternal  aspirations  now  tending  toward 
material  prosperity.  The  father  wanted  his  sons  to  work 


130       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

hard  as  he  was  content  to  do,  and  he  would  put  more  money 
in  the  bank  and  till  new  acres,  and  when  his  sons  were  of 
age  have  them  settled  if  possible  on  adjacent  farms  to  con 
tinue  on  the  basis  of  his  success,  or  at  worst  reconcile 
himself  to  their  going  West,  where  he  had  already  wan 
dered  as  a  young  man  and  stayed  long  enough  to  estab 
lish  his  claim  to  several  well-chosen  government  reserva 
tion  lots. 

But  nothing  of  this  kind  appealed  to  Johnnie,  who  was 
already  nourishing  a  youth's  sublime  of  a  very  different 
kind.  "I  have  meat  to  eat  that  you  know  not  of,"  was  a 
phrase  in  the  morning's  sermon  which  stuck  fast  in  John 
nie's  mind  and  he  thought  he  knew  what  it  meant  better 
than  the  minister. 

Just  now  Johnnie's  problem  was  what  to  do  with  his 
long  summer  afternoon.  Some  two  miles  to  the  east  on 
another  farm  was  a  high  hill,  called  in  local  parlance  Mt. 
Hatch.  It  was  densely  wooded  on  all  sides,  but  had  a  sin 
gularly  bald,  rocky  top  rising  perhaps  two  hundred  feet 
above  the  highest  trees.  It  could  be  reached  only  through 
a  deep  valley,  also  densely  wooded,  and  by  a  long  sharp 
climb,  and  it  was  towards  Hatch  top  Johnnie  found  his 
somewhat  aimless  steps  directed  with  an  impulse  of  re 
search  characteristic  of  his  age  and  of  springtide. 

He  had  set  out  with  no  very  definite  purpose  or  goal,  but 
had  long  been  curious  to  visit  this  hilltop  so  plainly  visible 
from  a  much  lower  hill  just  back  of  his  home.  He  told  no  one 
where  he  might  go,  but  stole  back,  after  he  had  started,  to 
take  along  a  second-hand  shotgun  for  which  he  had  lately 
paid  three  dollars  and  which  was  just  then  the  most 
precious  of  all  his  possessions.  As  he  wandered  away 
rather  aimlessly  eastward  over  the  pastures,  he  wondered 
if  he  really  should  go  as  far  as  Hatch  top,  but  after  a 
couple  of  hours  of  alternate  sauntering,  resting  and  steep 
climbing,  in  which  he  had  encountered  no  bulls  or  rams, 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      131 

of  which  his  experience  had  given  him  more  tangible  reason 
to  be  afraid  than  the  ancient  knights  ever  had  to  fear  the 
dragons  they  are  fabled  to  have  slain,  and  which  had  made 
many  of  his  plans  for  excursions  somewhat  tentative,  he 
reached  at  length  the  summit  of  the  hill. 

Here  he  sat  down  on  the  very  highest  rock,  which  was 
a  deeply  creviced  ledge,  and  gazed  about  him.  The  view 
was  far  more  extensive  and  commanding  than  he  expected, 
more  so,  in  fact,  by  far  than  anything  he  had  ever  seen 
or  dreamed  of.  Eastward  ai  long  row  of  lesser  hills 
stretched  away  as  far  as  he  could  see,  and  in  this  direction, 
too,  lay  the  great  forest  in  which  he  had  heard  there  were 
still  catamounts,  lynxes,  wolves,  and  even  bears.  The 
Orient  is  the  region  of  origins  and  traditions.  To  the 
south  he  looked  down  upon  a  village  which  he  knew  well, 
which  was  stretched  out  along  a  stream  bed.  in  the  valley. 
Beyond  it  lay  soft  fields  in  a  misty  light  symbolic  of  the 
humanities.  To  the  west  lay  his  own  home  just  hidden 
from  view  itself,  but  with  many  familiar  landmarks  near 
by,  and  beyond  was  the  Great  West,  which  his  father  had 
explored,  a  symbol  of  hope  and  of  the  future;  while 
stretching  around  from  northwest  to  southeast,  or  from 
Graylock  to  Monadnock,  ran  an  irregular  row  of  hills 
serrated  on  the  far  horizon  a  background  of  the  infinite 
ocean  of  sky,  from  which  quarter  comes  the  pure  cold  light 
of  reason.  All  the  world  he  knew  and  far  more  now  lay 
stretched  out  in  clear  and  beautiful  perspective  below,  and 
of  course  he  could  at  best  only  feel  these  fourfold  symbol 
isms  far  below  the  ranges  of  his  consciousness.  Gradually 
as  he  sat  and  stood  and  turned,  his  interest  in  identifying 
points  he  knew  merged  into  a  vague  unique  sense  of  exalta 
tion.  How  big  the  world  was  and  how  splendid,  and  how 
fine  to  look  far  down  upon  so  much  of  it  in  a  single  sweep 
ing  glance ! 

In  vain  Johnnie 's  sager  elders  are  now  asking  with  great 


132       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

earnestness  why  this  excelsior  motive,  this  altitude  tropism, 
that  Johnnie  had  followed  as  blindly  as  a  climbing  chamois 
or  a  soaring  eagle.  What  induces  mountaineers  to  scale 
ever  higher  peaks?  Whence  the  passion  of  the  aviator  to 
beat  the  record  and  look  down  upon  the  world  from  an 
ever  greater  altitude?  Why  have  mountains  played  such 
a  role  in  history  and  myth  where  so  many  great  men  of 
the  earth  have  communed  with  gods  or  fought  their  own 
way  clear  through  their  doubts  or  solved  their  problems? 
Both  deities  and  muses  live  among  the  mountains  where  the 
heavens  and  earth  touch  and  inspiration  comes  literally 
from  breathing  here  the  same  celestial  ether  with  divine 
beings. 

Johnnie  on  his  little  colline  must  have  felt  something  of 
this,  for  as  he  looked  back  on  his  short  life  he  felt  that  he 
had  hitherto  been  half  asleep,  that  he  ought  to  wake  up 
from  his  dream  and  look  reality  in  the  face.  The  future 
could  not,  and  should  not,  be  for  him  as  the  past  had  been. 
If  that  was  so,  in  a  few  years  he  would  be  married  and 
settled  for  a  long  life  of  a  routine  so  dull  that  there  would 
be  nothing  further  to  be  noted  of  him  save  the  date  of 
his  death.  No,  things  as  they  were  were  intolerable  and 
should  never  remain  henceforth  as  they  had  been.  He 
would  do,  be,  have  something  more,  something  worth  while. 
He  almost  loathed  his  present  life.  He  must  molt  it  all. 
He  must  have  a  career.  His  father  seemed  to  him  never 
so  sordid  and  unambitious  as  at  this  moment.  Possibly  he 
was  not  his  real  father,  but  this  was  a  horrible  thought  in 
its  implications  when  he  thought  of  his  mother.  Perhaps 
he  was  an  adopted  child  of  a  better  breed  taken  over  for 
some  reason  by  his  supposed  parents. 

Boys  of  this  age  often  have  experiences  akin  to  ecstasy 
that  come  like  a  kind  of  spontaneous  second  breath,  per 
haps  as  a  psychic  vicariate  for,  or  sublimation  of,  phenom-/ 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      133 

ena  usually  more  physical.    Perhaps  the  very  act  of  climb 
ing  predisposes  to  such  exalted  mental  states. 

The  sun  was  near  its  setting  and  Johnnie  tried  for  a 
moment  to  look  it  straight  in  the  face,  shouting  to  it  to 
witness  his  vow.  He  ran  with  arms  outstretched  toward 
it,  exclaiming,  "Oh,  sun,  help  me."  "I  will,  I  will." 
c '  Oh,  life,  what  is  life  ?  Give  all  of  it  to  me,  make  me  live 
long."  "Shine  into  and  through  me.  I  want  to  know 
all  the  world  as  you  do.  You  never  saw  a  shadow.  You 
could  not.  And  all  I  know  is  shadow  darkening  down 
into  black  ignorance.  Don't  set,  but  rise  in  my  soul." 

Johnnie  knew  he  was  alone  with  Nature  as  he  had  never 
been  before,  and  he  capered  about,  laughed  aloud,  and  sang 
in  his  triumph,  and  dedicated  himself  to  the  sun  as  the 
loftiest,  biggest,  most  dynamic  thing  he  knew.  He  wanted 
to  rise  on  the  world  as  a  conqueror  like  the  morning  sun, 
disperse  mists  and  cloud-demons,  and  he  longed  in  the  end 
to  set  gloriously,  for  the  first  real  death  thought  had  come, 
as  it  always  does,  after  pubic  erethism.  Then  as  the 
frenzy  went  and  left  him,  he  lay  on  his  back  and  gazed 
up  at  the  zenith,  then  lay  on  his  stomach  and  tried  to 
project  his  very  soul  downward  to  the  depths  of  the  center 
of  the  earth  and  at  last  he  almost  slept  for  a  time,  perhaps 
in  reaction,  but  it  was  not  a  dead  sleep,  but  full  of  visions. 

Then  the  full  moon  rose  in  all  its  splendor,  and  Johnnie 
found  himself,  without  knowing  how,  on  his  knees  mut 
tering  to  it.  As  he  gazed  at  its  markings,  he  thought  he 
saw  in  them  his  mother  sitting  there  and  looking  down  be 
nignly  at  him,  till  a  lump  came  in  his  throat.  What  was 
the  matter  with  him?  Was  he  going  crazy?  "Oh,  moon, 
how  pure  and  beautiful  you  are!  How  far  and  yet  how 
near !  How  you  draw  my  very  soul  up  and  out !  Why  can 
not  I  go  to  you?  Take  me  up  to  you  now,  now.  I  am 
homesick  for  you.  Be  you  my  mother,  and  the  sun  my 
father."  He  felt  that  the  moon  had  a  message  for  him. 


134       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

What,  oh  what,  was  it?  The  very  stillness  meant  that  the 
world,  as  well  as  his  own  soul,  was  listening  for  it.  Long 
the  queen  of  the  night  had  waited  to  impart  her  secret,  and 
now  perhaps  he  was  the  one  of  all  mankind  who  would 
hear  it.  " Peace,  my  son,  be  strong,  be  calm."  These 
words  arose  in  his  heart.  Was  it  that,  or  was  it,  "  Arise 
and  shine  as  I  do,"  which  he  also  almost  seemed  to  hear? 
At  any  rate  there  was  some  new  inner  rapport  established 
between  them  so  that  henceforth  the  moon  would  mean 
something  more  to  him.  He  was  in  a  sense  adopted,  ini 
tiated,  or  had  he  heard  oracles,  hitherto  unsuspected,  out 
of  the  depths  of  his  own  psyche?  Gradually  the  ecstasy 
abated  and  a  great  peace  supervened.  The  outer  world 
of  reality  faded  and  the  night-time  constellations  began  to 
appear,  and  at  length  he  really  fell  asleep.  Then  came 
the  dream-vision,  as  by  inevitable  psychic  laws  it  needs 
must,  for  after  the  storm  and  stress  of  this  intense  per 
sonal  experience  the  tides  of  Mansoul  turn  and  often 
ebb  and  in  symbols  the  vaster  life  of  the  race  finds  expres 
sion,  as  the  stars  come  out  when  the  sun  and  moon  set. 

Johnnie's  vision  was  of  a  woman,  mature  and  of  the 
mingled  charm  of  mother,  sister,  and  bride.  She  seemed 
to  hover  in  the  air  just  above  him  and  very  near  where  he 
lay.  Every  lineament  of  her  face  was  apparent  and  won 
derfully  distinct  and  vivid.  He  felt  that  she  was  wise  in 
life  and  had  known  its  chief  joys  and  sorrows,  its  high 
lights  and  shadows;  that  without  the  lore  of  pedants  or 
books  she  understood  the  world  and,  best  of  all,  under 
stood  him.  She  resembled  no  one  he  had  ever  seen  be 
fore,  unless  it  was  a  rude  woodcut  of  the  Holy  Mother 
that  he  saw  in  a  Catholic  church  he  had  visited  months 
ago  in  a  little  village.  But  he  unconsciously  knelt  before 
it  as  he  had  seen  people  do  there.  He  had  a  feeling,  too, 
that  she  had  come  down  from  the  moon  to  bear  to  him  its 
message  but  she  did  not  speak,  but  only  gazed  at  him  out 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      135 

of  the  depths  of  her  luminous  eyes  which  spoke  unutter 
able  love  and  yearning,  and  also  revealed  trusting  con 
fidence.  Slowly,  very  slowly,  she  moved  toward  him,  ex 
tending  her  arms,  while  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  cast  him 
self  into  her  embrace,  where  he  was  pressed  close  to  her 
heart  till  soon  his  lips  met  hers  in  a  moment  of  such  ecstasy 
as  he  had  never  dreamed  of  before.  "You  must  never 
leave  me,"  he  whispered  at  last,  and  her  soft,  sweet  voice 
replied,  "Never.  You  shall  obtain  all  you  seek.  I  shall 
be  always  with  you,  but  you  will  not  see  me.  Never  seek 
me  here.  Be  true,  pure;  cherish,  and  you  will  attain  the 
ideals  born  in  your  heart  here  to-day,  and  then  sometime, 
somewhere,  when  the  hour  is  ripe,  I  will  come  to  you." 

He  awoke.  The  moon  was  riding  high.  Breezes  were 
blowing.  Where  was  she,  and  who?  Nothing  suggesting 
her  presence  was  anywhere  to  be  seen.  But  with  his  eyes 
closed  he  could  see  her  and  still  seemed  to  feel  her  warm 
embrace.  He  had  heard  his  father,  who  in  his  adventurous 
youth  had  known  red  men,  tell  how  their  boys  just  about 
to  enter  manhood  fasted  and  were  secluded  until  they  had 
apparitions  of  some  totemic  animal  or  communed  with  the 
Great  Spirit,  or  found  their  tutelary  genius,  but  he  had 
never  heard  of  the  Garu  that  the  Hindoo  youth  meet, 
nor  of  the  doubles  of  many  kinds,  sometimes  in  the  form 
of  their  own  good  genii,  which  appear  to  men  as  per 
sonifications  of  their  own  highest  unconscious  aspirations. 
But  Johnnie  wondered  with  all  his  heart  what  had  really 
befallen  him.  It  was  a  balmy  June  night,  and  he  yearned 
unutterably  for  the  wonderful  figure  whose  image  was  so 
indelibly  impressed  upon  his  heart.  He  knew  she  would 
not  return  there,  but  she  had  promised  to  meet  him  some 
time,  somewhere,  again  face  to  face,  and  he  felt  a  sense 
of  her  presence,  unseen  though  she  must  remain,  and  this 
he  knew  could  never  leave  him.  He  felt,  too,  that  his 
own  inarticulate  ambition  to  be,  and  do,  something  signifi- 


136       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

cant  for  the  world  was  to  be  gratified.  He  would  be  pure, 
strong,  and  great  if  he  could,  and  above  all  he  would  be 
true  to  the  mysterious  lady  of  his  vision. 

It  was  a  long,  hard,  and  somewhat  fearsome  walk  home, 
where  he  arrived  near  midnight,  climbing  up  the  terrace 
to  the  shed  and  L-roof,  and  thence  into  his  bedroom  win 
dow  unobserved.  His  gun  had  been  forgotten,  but  was 
probably  safe  in  the  cleft  of  the  ledge  on  the  hilltop  to 
which  it  had  slid.  But  there  it  must  remain,  much  as  he 
might  want  it,  for  never  again  would  he  visit  Hatch-top 
till  he  had  realized  at  least  some  of  the  lofty  aspirations 
that  had  been  born  there.  He  would  look  at  it  whenever 
he  needed  strength  or  courage,  but  to  visit  it  again  unless, 
or  until,  he  could  bring  some  assurance  of  achievement, 
would  be  profanation.  He  and  his  bald-topped  hill  held 
a  sacred  secret  between  them  that  none  must  ever  share. 
So  he  took  up  his  round  of  home  duties  as  before,  intent 
chiefly  that  none  should  suspect  the  great  crisis  through 
which  he  had  passed,  a  conversion  by  which  the  boy  had 
become  overnight  a  man. 

Now  he  knew  he  had  a  mission  in  the  world,  but  what 
was  it?  Everything  about  it  had  been  so  vague,  in  terms 
only  of  emotion  and  desire.  It  was  surely  not  to  be  the 
great  hunter  and  frontiersman  of  his  gun  day-dreams.  The 
lost  gun  told  him  that.  Perhaps  it  was  music.  He  had 
fiddled  for  dances  and  played  the  accordion,  and  envied 
the  organist  at  the  church,  a  girl  not  many  years  older 
than  he.  So,  at  the  intercession  of  his  mother,  an  old  piano 
had  been  bought  and  Johnnie  took  lessons,  only  to  learn 
after  a  year  of  hard  work  that  he  lacked  gifts  in  this  field. 
Perhaps  he  might  write  novels.  To  this  he  turned  at  fif 
teen,  covering  many  pages  of  foolscap  on  both  sides  with 
wild  and  lurid  adventures,  dealing  with  horrible  incidents 
and  burning,  deathless  romance,  always  written  in  red  ink, 
with  the  inspiration  of  Sylvanus  Cobb  and  Maria  Edge- 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      137 

worth  strong  upon  him.  More  secretly  yet  he  tried  poetry, 
but  this  Muse  proved  too  coy  for  him,  and  even  Johnnie's 
girl  cousin,  about  his  own  age,  who  had  been  allowed  to 
read  his  romances  and  pronounced  them  splendid,  was 
never  allowed  to  see  this.  Oratory  thrilled  him,  and  he 
spouted  eloquence  in  the  form  of  declamations  and  even 
wrote  orations  imagined  for  great  occasions  when  the  fate 
of  nations  was  at  stake.  But  here  again  was  no  thorough 
fare.  Slowly  he  realized  that  fame  could  not  be  attained 
by  any  short  cut.  His  cousin,  a  dashing  and  brilliant  fel 
low,  five  years  his  senior,  whom  he  greatly  admired,  had 
entered  college,  and  the  glamour  of  his  example  fired  him. 
Johnnie  stood  well  in  school,  and  so  now  in  the  autumn  af 
ter  he  was  fifteen  he  took  hold  of  his  Latin  with  a  new  zest, 
began  Greek,  and  the  father,  after  much  persuasion  by 
Johnnie  and  his  mother,  in  due  time  gave  his  consent, 
and  two  years  later  Johnnie  became  a  freshman. 

But  this  story  is  not  of  Johnnie's  career.  Suffice  it  to 
say  here  that  he  worked  hard  and  acquired  high  standing 
in  literature,  as  well  as  excellent  rank  in  general  scholar 
ship,  was  able  with  the  help  of  a  wealthy  relative  to  study 
in  Europe,  entered  a  profession  and  by  dint  of  hard,  ab 
sorbing  effort  achieved  for  himself  a  standing  and  had  a 
career,  and  at  length  married  and  had  children  who  grew 
up  well,  married  and  left  him.  So  at  the  age  of  sixty-five 
he  found  himself  a  widower,  alone  in  the  world,  but  fairly 
prosperous,  respected  and  indeed  eminent  in  his  field, 
known,  too,  as  a  writer  of  successful  books,  and  honored 
by  learned  societies.  He  was  hale  and  hearty,  had  no 
thought  yet  of  retiring,  but  in  his  rather  desolate  life  a 
sense  of  solitariness  and  a  nameless  sorrow  grew  upon  him. 
He  felt  a  new  craving  for  a  different  career.  His  life  had 
not  after  all  been  satisfactory,  successful  though  it  seemed 
to  others.  He  wanted  something,  he  knew  not  what.  He 
had  been  a  good  and  faithful  husband,  as  well  as  father, 


138       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

but  never  a  lady's  man  and  never  fond  of  society  and  its 
conventions.  He  was  not  rich,  but  might  have  retired  com 
fortably  in  his  old  age.  But  he  was  still  absorbed  in  his 
work  which  he  loved  above  all  things.  No  one  would  ever 
have  suspected  him  of  romance,  but  now  it  came.  And 
now  this  story  really  begins,  and  its  end  is  also  near. 

One  day,  when  Mr.  Smith  had  come  home  early  from  his 
office  to  get  ready  for  a  sudden  business  trip  West,  the 
card  of  a  lady  caller  was  brought  him.  He  would  have  ex 
cused  himself,  but  with  the  card  came  a  message  that  the 
call  was  urgent  and  would  take  but  a  moment  and  that 
the  visitor  had  been  there  twice  before.  He  surmised  that 
she  sought  his  subscription  for  a  new  church  already  be 
gun  nearby,  and  so  in  fact  it  proved.  As  he  hastened  to 
her  he  was  calculating  how  much  he  ought  to  donate.  The 
lady  rose  to  meet  him  with  her  back  toward  the  window, 
which  he  faced,  and  by  the  dim  light  he  could  not  at  first 
see  her  face  clearly,  but  there  was  something  in  her  voice, 
mien,  and,  most  of  all,  in  her  calm,  composed  manner  which 
impressed  him  strangely.  Indeed  he  forgot  about  his  trip 
for  the  moment,  and  when  the  topic  of  his  visitor's  errand 
was  broached  he  asked  many  questions  about  the  new  edi 
fice,  for  his  curiosity  was  strangely  stirred  and  he  was 
loath  to  have  his  guest  depart.  When  he  could  think  of 
nothing  more  that  was  natural  and  essential  for  a  prospec 
tive  donor  to  know,  he  wrote  a  generous  sum  against  his 
name,  and  consented  to  head  her  paper  in  the  street  for 
which  she  was  solicitor.  As  she  moved  toward  the  door 
and  their  positions  were  reversed  so  that  the  light  now  fell 
fully  upon  her  face  and  his  was  in  the  shadow,  what  was 
his  amazement  to  see  standing  before  him  in  living  flesh 
and  blood  the  identical  lady  of  his  pubescent  hilltop  vision, 
which  had  never  faded  in  any  of  its  lineaments  from  his 
memory.  He  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes  and  swiftly 
passed  his  hands  over  them  to  make  sure  that  he  was  now 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE     139 

awake  and  that  it  was  not  another  hallucination,  as  he 
knew  the  boyhood  phantom  had  been.  He  glanced  at  her 
card,  which  was  still  in  his  hand  and  which  he  had  not  even 
looked  at  in  his  haste  before,  but  it  bore  a  name  not  only 
new  to  him,  but  as  unique  as  his  own  was  commonplace. 

" Madam/'  he  managed  to  say,  "we  have  met  before." 

"That  is  impossible,"  she  replied,  "I  have  lived  all  my 
life  in  the  South  and  came  to  this  city  only  a  few  months 
ago." 

"But,  surely,  once,  many  many  years  ago,"  he  faltered, 
and  stopped,  realizing  her  youth  and  freshness.  "Perhaps 
your  mother  .  .  .  May  I  ask  if  you  resemble  her?" 

"No/'  she  replied,  wondering  at  his  curiosity.  "She 
was  dark  and  very  slender,  and  died  when  I  was  a  child. ' ' 

The  interview  was  at  an  end  and  she  withdrew,  evidently 
embarrassed  and  flushing  slightly  under  his  eager  gaze. 

The  Honorable  John  Smith  (for  he  had  served  a  term  in 
the  lower  House  of  Congress)  was  stirred  as  he  had  never 
been  before  in  all  his  career.  He  reviewed  again  and  over 
and  over  his  boyish  experience  on  the  hilltop,  of  which  he 
had  never  spoken  to  a  living  soul.  He  realized  that  he  was 
facing  a  problem  too  deep  for  his  psychology.  He  re 
viewed  every  item  of  the  interview,  and  longed  to  see  the 
mysterious  stranger  again.  Leisure  time  found  him  some 
times  walking  his  own  and  nearby  streets  in  the  hope,  if 
he  would  confess  it,  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  her  face  by 
daylight,  but  no  such  good  fortune  awaited  him.  A  year 
rolled  by.  The  church  was  nearly  finished.  He  watched 
its  progress  with  interest,  and  finally  offered  to  add  an 
organ  to  his  first  gift,  an  offer  which  was  gratefully  ac 
cepted  in  a  gracious  letter  signed  by  the  pastor  and  the 
trustees.  When  the  church  was  dedicated  he  was  present, 
to  the  surprise  of  his  friends  and  neighbors,  for  he  had 
rarely  been  inside  a  church  for  a  quarter  century.  At  the 
doorway,  coming  out  he  met  her  face  to  face.  He  took  the 


140       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

extended  hand  as  she  thanked  him  in  behalf  of  the  commit 
tee  for  his  new  and  generous  gift,  and  again  they  parted. 
He  had  not  been  mistaken.  It  was  the  very  same  face  and 
figure  of  his  vision.  He  must  know  more  of  her.  She  was 
young  and  he  was  old  enough  to  be  her  father.  She  was 
in  the  prime  of  womanhood,  while  he  was  entering  upon 
the  seared  and  yellow  leaf  of  age.  But  could  it  be  that 
Love's  rejuvenating  processes  were  awakening  within  him 
again?  He  realized  that  absorption  in  his  career  had  di 
verted  him  from  all  such  abandon  to  the  tender  passion 
of  his  early  life  as  poets  and  novelists  write  about.  But 
now  he  understood  that  they  might  be  right.  He  could  see 
that  to  his  marital  love  he  had  given  himself,  as  it  were, 
with  reservations.  Or  was  it  that  his  wife,  with  whom  he 
thought  himself  happy,  to  whose  memory  he  was  devoted, 
had  not  touched  the  deepest  things  over  which  Eros  pre 
sides  in  the  soul  and  that  there  were  still  belated  possibili 
ties  of  natural  affection  hitherto  latent?  Or  was  this  all 
but  the  fantasy  of  approaching  senescence  that  sometimes 
flashes  up  for  a  season  as  the  torch  of  life  just  begins  to 
grow  dim  ?  Could  he  love  again,  and  this  time  more  heart 
ily  than  before^  His  career  was  made  and  he  could  retire 
at  any  time  from  all  other  occupations  and  give  the  first 
place  in  his  life  to  the  woman  of  his  choice,  as  he  had  not 
been  able  to  do  before.  But  what  would  his  friends,  and 
above  all  what  would  she,  even  if  she  were  free,  think? 
Would  it  not  seem  a  foolish  infatuation  at  his  age?  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  what  a  void  she  would  fill  in  his  deso 
late  and  lonely  household  and  above  all  in  his  heart.  He 
was  not  a  clubman  and  had,  in  fact,  few  intimate  friends, 
although  he  had  a  vast  circle  of  acquaintances  and  a  still 
larger  one  who  knew  him  by  his  writings  and  by  his  offi 
cial  position.  But  all  this  which  had  filled  his  heart  be 
fore  seemed  now  utterly  unsatisfactory,  and  he  wondered 
if,  after  all,  his  life  had  not  been  more  or  less  of  a  failure 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      141 

in  that  he  had  none  or  little  of  the  greatest  thing  in  the 
world.  He  understood  in  a  general  way  the  theory  of 
counterparts  in  complexion,  temperament,  diathesis,  and 
all  these  laws  he  fancied  were  applicable  to  this  woman 
who  seemed  outwardly  to  fulfill  all  his  ideals.  Why  might 
not  the  same  doctrine  be  applied  to  age  ? 

Such  were  some  of  the  thoughts  and  feelings  that  came 
to  claim  more  and  more  of  his  vacant  hours.  There  was 
much  trouble  between  his  judgment  and  his  desires. 
Surely,  a  man  of  his  age  and  experience,  thought  to  be 
sane  by  all  who  knew  him,  could  be  trusted  to  be  reason 
able.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  this  growing  and 
almost  irresistible  urge  so  unprecedented  in  his  life,  which  ( 
was  sweeping  him  away  from  so  many  of  his  old  moorings, 
and  it  would  not  be  put  by.  Moreover,  his  life  had  been  a 
long  and  hard  struggle  and  he  had  had  little  time  for,  or{ 
inclination  toward,  the  other  sex.  True,  he  preferred 
some  members  of  it  to  others,  and  several  enterprising 
damsels,  a  few  even  younger  than  she,  had  made  alluring 
advances,  some  almost  offensively  and  even  flagrantly  so. 
But  all  left  him  unmoved,  though  some  of  these  self -con 
stituted  candidates  for  his  favor  had  been  beautiful,  a  few 
rich,  and  one  a  scholar,  and  another  famous  in  letters.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  had  not  even  thought  whether  this  new 
star  that  had  come  into  his  horizon  had  any,  all,  or  none,  of 
these  qualifications.  But  he  knew  that  he  wanted  her 
and  only  her. 

On  her  side,  too,  he  thought,  could  she  ever  really  love 
such  a  man  as  he,  and  that,  too,  for  his  own  sake?  He  be-, 
lieved  that  in  their  advances  the  others  had  had  chiefly  in 
mind  his  position,  for  he  had  small  opinion  of  his  own  per 
sonal  attractiveness.  Indeed,  he  hardly  knew  whether  he 
possessed  any  or  not.  He  knew  women  could  scheme  and 
feign  affection  and  occasionally  one  could  even  blackmail. 
Oh,  if  he  were  only  young,  poor  and  obscure,  but  how 


142       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

could  he  tell  as  he  was  ?  Young  women  have  often  led  old 
men  a  merry  dance,  have  toyed  with  their  affections,  lured 
them  to  all  sorts  of  extravagances,  and  in  their  hearts 
laughed  at  them,  and  at  the  worst  had  other,  younger 
lovers.  But  he  must  know.  He  must  devise  subtle  tests. 
Yet  it  seemed  impossible  that  the  lady  of  his  vision  could 
have  anything  in  common  with  any  of  these.  It  was  prof 
anation  to  think  of  her  as  any  kind  of  adventuress.  If 
she  was  not  good  and  true,  nobody  could  be. 

Now  he  was  often  found  at  church,  was  seen  at  some  of 
its  social  functions,  and  often  he  met  Her.  He  observed  and 
learned  all  he  could  about  her  as  if  incidentally.  She  was 
a  widow,  had  led  a  somewhat  sad  and  desolate  life,  had 
known  less  joy  than  sorrow,  had  made  an  impulsive  and 
not  altogether  happy  marriage,  and  there  were  even  a  few 
things  that  it  pained  him  to  learn  about  her.  But  she  was 
at  heart  good,  true,  pure,  with  boundless  possibilities  of 
affection,  had  rare  powers  of  native  insight  and  sagacity, 
had  learned  exceptional  wisdom  in  the  hard  school  of  life, 
and  had  emerged  chastened,  calm,  serene,  genuine,  honest, 
loyal,  with  definite  and  high  ideals  of  life,  the  rarest  self- 
control,  had  always  been  unmindful  of  self  and  ungrudg 
ingly  devoted  to  her  services  for  others,  had  a  boundless 
wealth  of  mother-love  for  children,  and  the  more  he  knew 
of  her  the  more  completely  all  his  fears  took  flight  and 
the  surer  he  was  that  he  could  love  and  honor  her  and 
take  pleasure  in  making  her  hitherto  rather  somber  life  a 
happy  one  if  only  the  springs  of  her  affection  could  be 
made  to  flow  toward  him.  She  was  not  one  who  could  or 
would  pretend,  she  was  not  loquacious,  her  words  were  few 
and  from  her  heart.  She  was  retiring,  and  one  who  seemed' 
to  prefer  to  appear  less  and  worse,  rather  than  more  and 
better,  than  she  was.  She  had  few  friends,  her  desires  were 
limited,  her  demands  on  life  moderate,  her  interests  nor 
mal;  her  ambitions  were  not  inordinate,  her  religion  was 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TRUE      143 

chiefly  that  of  service.  None  could  ever  call  her  selfish. 
Of  vanity  she  knew  nothing,  but  rather  was  prone  to  un 
derestimate  everything  pertaining  to  her  own  personality. 
Her  virtues  were  of  the  homely,  old-fashioned  type,  sug 
gestive  of  her  simple  Southern  upbringing.  That  she  was 
not  incapable  of  romance  was  attested  by  her  wide  but 
desultory  reading  in  this  field  and  by  a  few  short  stories 
she  had  composed  and  printed  anonymously  in  several  of1 
the  less  prominent  magazines. 

All  this  he  learned,  concluded,  and  pondered,  for  al 
though  his  love  for  her  grew,  a  man  of  his  training  and 
ability  could  not  plunge  madly  and  blindly  into  love. 
Meanwhile,  their  acquaintance  had  ripened  into  some  de 
gree  of  friendship,  and  he  felt  that  although  she  had  given 
him  not  the  least  token  of  any  tender  sentiment,  she  showed 
toward  him  a  confidence  and  frankness  out  of  which  deeper 
feelings  often  grew. 

Save  at  their  first  meeting  they  had  never  been  alone  to 
gether.  But  one  stormy  evening  when  an  important  parish 
committee  meeting  was  called  at  the  pastor's  house  only 
four  were  present,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  session  both  the 
pastor  and  his  wife  were  called  by  phone  to  the  home  of 
their  daughter,  who  had  met  with  an  accident  which  at 
first  seemed  to  be  serious,  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city. 
Thus  He  and  She  were  left  alone.  "You  can  finish  the  de 
tails  by  yourselves, ' '  said  the  pastor  as  he  left  them. 

His  mind  had  already  been  made  up,  for  he  had  long 
waited  for  just  such  an  occasion,  and  made  characteristic 
provision  for  every  issue,  and  when  the  items  of  business 
were  finished  he  began. 

"Would  you  listen  to  a  very  personal  story  of  my  boy 
hood  which  has  never  been  told  to  any  one  before,  but 
which  my  acquaintance  with  you  has  brought  very  vividly 
into  my  mind?" 

She  showed  none  of  the  hesitation  or  embarrassment 


144       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

which,  he  had  expected,  and  assented.  Whereupon  he  nar 
rated  all  the  details  of  the  hilltop  much  as  it  is  above  re 
corded.  She  listened  with  an  interest  more  absorbing  than 
he  had  expected,  and  when  he  said  in  closing,  * '  This  woman 
was  you  in  every  detail  of  face,  figure,  and  expression,  and 
when  our  eyes  met  and  the  vision  faded,  her  face  had  just 
the  look  of  tenderness,  charm,  fascination,  insight,  that  I 
seem  to  see  in  yours  now. ' '  He  paused. 

The  moment  of  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  sound 
of  rain  on  the  trees  outside. 

11  Listen,"  she  said  at  length,  "I  am  far  less  surprised 
at  your  tale  than  you  think,  and  now  I,  too,  will  tell  you 
what  no  one  but  myself  ever  heard  and  what  I  could  never 
tell  to  any  one  else,  not  even  to  you,  but  for  what  you 
have  just  said.  My  girlhood,  too,  was  romantic.  I  was 
reared  on  a  Southern  plantation  where  I  was  very  much 
alone  and  found  solace  for  my  solitude  in  books,  but  very 
few  of  those  about  me  seemed  as  real  companions  as  those 
I  read  of.  Gradually,  too,  I  evolved  a  double  and  coun 
terpart  that  eventually  assumed  a  very  distinct  form, 
which  embodied  my  idea  of  manhood.  I  even  gave  him 
a  name  and  he  was  always  with  me  on  my  rambles  and 
rides.  He  was  my  imaginary  companion  for  years  and  I 
judged  all  men  I  knew  by  him  and  found  them  inferior. 
He  became  the  hero  of  my  day-dreams  and  I  fancied  he 
would  appear  to  me  sometime,  as  he  did  several  times  but 
only  in  dreams  by  night.  He  was  partly  the  idealized 
image  of  my  dead  father  as  my  mother  had  described  him. 
He  was  also  my  ideal  of  a  husband,  though  older,  wiser, 
better  than  I.  Then  I  came  North,  married  in  haste,  alas, 
only  to  repent  at  leisure,  and  when  my  husband  was 
brought  home  in  the  dim  light  of  early  morning  killed  in 
a  drunken  brawl  I  was  wicked  enough  to  feel  little  sorrow 
but  a  deep  gladness  in  my  heart  that  I  was  free  again,  and 
vowed  that  I  would  henceforth  live  with,  and  for  my  ideal 


HOW  JOHNNIE'S  VISION  CAME  TBUE      145 

knight,  no  longer  dreaming  that  he  ever  really  lived." 
She  paused. 

"And  did  he?"  he  asked  almost  breathlessly. 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "He  is  here,"  she  murmured,  as 
she  laid  her  hand  lightly  upon  his  arm.  He  clasped  her  to 
him  in  a  long  and  warm  embrace,  and  their  lips  met. 
When  at  last  he  released  her,  they  gazed  for  a  moment  into 
each  other's  eyes. 

"Have  not  our  doubles  been  kept  apart  long  enough? 
Do  we  not  owe  something  to  them?"  he  said. 

"I  have  thought  so,"  she  said,  "but  ever  since  I  saw 
you  it  has  seemed  to  me  as  though  they  were  married 
already." 

A  latchkey  was  heard  at  the  front  door.  The  pastor  and 
his  wife  had  returned  with  their  sick  daughter  and  a  physi 
cian.  But  when  the  situation  had  been  explained  to  the 
clergyman  in  a  few  brief  words,  he  consented  to  perform 
his  office  then  and  there,  and  they  went  forth,  as  the  moon 
broke  through  the  clouds,  man  and  wife. 

It  remains  only  to  be  added  that  on  their  honeymoon 
they  made  a  pilgrimage  to  old  Hatch  top  and  there  they 
found  imbedded  under  the  growth  of  many  years  of  ferns 
in  the  chasm  of  the  rock  the  remains  of  the  old  gun,  from 
which  the  stock  had  rotted  entirely  away.  It  was  a  sym 
bol  of  the  first  stage  of  sublimation  which  had  culminated 
in  the  unique  union  not  only  of  this  man  and  his  wife  but 
of  senescence  and  adolescence. 

Those  who  are  now  saying  that  romance  really  ought  to 
and  that  the  new  romance  will  not  end  but  begin  with 
marriage  may  be  right.  .  Now  that  women  are  coming  into 
their  own  in  the  world  just  at  a  time  when  a  new  psychol 
ogy  of  sex  is  being  born,  love  chronicles  will  not  end  but 
begin  at  the  church  door,  and  the  first  few  years  of  wed 
lock  and  the  readjustments  it  involves  open  a  new  domain 


146       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

as  yet  explored  only  by  a  few  pioneers.  "When  tales  of 
this  kind  are  in  vogue,  and  when  the  situation  here  de 
scribed  has  further  evolved,  such  a  sequel  may  perhaps 
sometime  be  written. 


Ill 

A  CONVERSION 

"0,  LORD,  above  all  save  our  young  men  from  the  curse 
of  rum.  Break,  0  God,  the  power  of  the  saloon.  Bless  the 
great  cause  of  temperance  and  all  its  leaders, ' '  etc. 

With  such  phrases  and  many  more  Samuel  Cooley  always 
concluded  his  petitions  to  the  Almighty  at  the  "Wednes 
day  evening  prayer  meetings  in  Stringfield,  which  he 
always  attended  and  in  which  he  always  took  part.  He 
was  a  fairly  prosperous  farmer  whose  large  old  house  was 
just  outside  a  large  and  growing  New  England  village. 
Here  his  father  and  grandfather  had  lived,  and  when  the 
former  died  the  church  promptly  made  Samuel  deacon 
in  his  father's  place.  He  was  in  the  early  forties,  large, 
strong,  ruddy,  steady  in  his  habits,  a  hard  worker,  a  con 
servative  Democrat  because  this  was  the  party  of  his  sire 
and  grandsire.  He  had  graduated  at  a  local  high  school, 
but  had  no  disposition  to  seek  the  so-called  higher  educa 
tion;  nor  had  he  traveled  much.  At  twenty-one  he  had 
married  a  neighbor's  daughter,  Prue  Ketcham,  who  had 
borne  him  two  sons  and  two  daughters,  the  oldest  a  boy 
now  eighteen  and  the  youngest,  a  girl,  thirteen. 

Samuel  Cooley  prided  himself  upon  being  old-fashioned, 
and  loved  the  good  old  ways.  He  was  unfavorable  to  most 
labor-saving  devices,  whether  on  the  farm  or  indoors.  In 
vain  his  boys  had  urged  him  to  put  in  a  mowing  or  a  reaping 
machine,  an  auto  truck,  a  system  of  drainage  pipes  for  the 
meadow,  and  enter  upon  a  path  of  progress  as  his  neigh 
bors  had  done.  But  whenever  he  had  yielded  to  these 

147 


148       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

"new-fangled  movements"  it  was  slowly  and  with  reluc 
tance.  During  the  winter  he  had  one  hired  man,  and  in 
the  summer  usually  three,  but  when  he  engaged  them  he 
always  stipulated  that  every  one  who  worked  for  him  must 
have  signed  a  temperance  pledge,  and  if  any  of  them 
broke  it  or  was  heard  of  in  the  village  saloon  it  meant 
tnat  he  must  seek  a  job  elsewhere.  This  strenuous  and 
intolerant  attitude  had  made  help  hard  for  him  to  get  and 
harder  to  keep,  and,  in  fact,  if  he  but  knew  it,  necessitated 
his  paying  a  higher  wage;  but  in  such  matters  he  was 
uncompromising.  Those  who  knew  his  family  and  its  his 
tory  ascribed  his  teetotalism  and  his  general  pharisaic  op 
position  to  so  many  of  the  joys  of  life,  in  part,  at  least, 
to  the  fact  that  both  an  uncle  and  a  great-uncle  had  fallen 
victims  to  John  Barleycorn  and  the  one  had  become  a  town 
drunkard  and  the  other  a  general  reprobate. 

Samuel  Cooley  even  kept  up  the  good  New  England 
custom  of  family  prayers  after  breakfast  every  morning, 
and  this  service  the  "help"  both  indoors  and  out  were 
expected  to  attend,  though  in  the  haying  time  and  when 
work  was  pressing  the  time  devoted  to  it  was  somewhat 
curtailed  to  be  made  up  on  Sundays.  He  was  not  only  a 
religious,  but  a  severely  moral  man,  built  on  a  puritanical 
model  such  as  can  only  be  found  now  in  New  England  and 
even  here  only  very  rarely  and  in  rural  communities.  And 
he  was  proud  to  be  so  regarded  by  those  who  knew  him. 
He  was  honest,  lived  plainly,  economically,  saved  money 
and  put  it  in  the  bank,  hated  tobacco  as  an  abomination 
second  only  to  alcohol,  was  a  strict  Sabbatarian,  kept  up 
the  old  traditional,  puritanical  prejudice  against  cards, 
dancing,  indecorous  slangy  language,  and  everything  that 
could  be  called  frivolous.  Evenings  after  the  work  was 
done  he  read  his  daily  paper  or  his  weekly  Temperance 
Advocate,  and  perhaps  listened  to  his  daughters'  simple 
rendering  of  their  small  repertoire  of  tunes  on  a  melodion 


A  CONVEESION  149 

which  he  had  bought  for  them,  not  without  some  hesitation 
and  only  at  their  mother's  earnest  solicitation.  It  was 
the  practice  of  the  household  to  retire  when  the  nine 
o'clock  curfew  rang  in  one  of  the  town  churches.  Thus 
the  weeks,  months  and  years  glided  placidly  along  and 
thus  they  seemed  likely  to  go  on  until  in  the  due  course 
of  time  Cooley  should  be  gathered  to  his  fathers  and  his 
sons  in  their  turn  should  take  his  place. 

But  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  when  Samuel  Cooley 
was  forty-five  there  was  an  exciting  local  political  cam 
paign.  The  lukewarm  attitude  on  the  temperance  question 
of  Squire  Brewster,  who  had  for  many  years  represented 
the  town  in  the  state  legislature,  was  severely  criticized. 
Other  political  and  local  issues  entered  in  and  created  an 
excitement  unprecedented  in  the  community,  and  in  the  end 
Samuel  Cooley,  after  much  genuine  reluctance,  consented 
to  become  an  opposition  candidate,  and  to  the  surprise 
of  many  and  the  consternation  of  the  Squire  and  his  over 
confident  followers  Cooley  was  elected  by  a  small  majority. 

In  due  time,  thus,  he  left  the  farm  in  care  of  the  boys 
for  the  winter  and  found  himself  situated  in  a  modest 
hotel  in  Boston,  which  city  he  had  never  visited  before. 
As  a  prohibition  law-maker,  commissioned  by  his  constit 
uents  to  make  the  State  safe  on  the  temperance  ques 
tion  and  with  an  ardent  desire  to  do  what  in  him  lay  for 
the  great  cause  so  near  his  heart,  on  finding  a  bar  in  the 
basement  of  his  hotel  he  very  promptly  moved  to  another, 
poorer  and  less  conveniently  located  though  it  was.  The 
first  weeks  of  the  session  were  uneventful.  Cooley  made 
many  acquaintances  but  none  of  them  intimate,  and  began 
to  feel  that  he  understood  the  run  of  things  a  little,  and 
although  his  voice  had  never  been  heard  and  was  not 
likely  to  be  heard  on  the  floor  of  the  House  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  make  his  convictions  known.  Then  the  all- 


150       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

important  prohibition  bill  was  introduced  and  its  discus 
sion  was  opened  ably  on  both  sides. 

This  was  the  state  of  things  when  one  day  Cooley,  as 
if  by  chance,  met  a  fellow-member  of  the  House  whom  he 
knew  as  Sturgis  and  who  seemed  to  be  a  man  of  great 
influence  and  always  the  center  of  a  group  that  appeared 
to  look  to  him  for  leadership.  He  was  a  tall,  large  man 
of  rather  imposing  physique  and  seemed  much  at  home 
in  his  environment. 

1 1  Cooley,  won 't  you  come  to  lunch  with  me  between  ses 
sions — that  is,  if  you  have  no  other  engagements?''  he  said 
to  him. 

Cooley  felt  not  a  little  pleased  that  this  experienced 
and  distinguished  member  knew  his  name  and  also  that 
he  subtly  assumed  that  he  might  have  other  engagements 
when  he  had,  in  fact,  nowhere  found  himself  in  demand 
but  felt  rather  strange  and  alone  in  the  city,  and  so  he 
readily  accepted. 

He  was  still  more  pleased  when  he  found  no  other  guests 
at  the  little  table  save  a  Mr.  Howes,  who  was  introduced 
as  an  outside  friend.  Sturgis  ordered  wisely  and  well, 
and  with  the  viands  was  brought  a  generous  pitcher  of 
lemonade. 

After  some  general  conversation  Sturgis  spoke  incident 
ally  of  the  Mahew,  or  Prohibition  Bill,  remarking  that  the 
forces  aligned  pro  and  con  were  very  evenly  matched  and, 
in  fact,  it  seemed  that  perhaps  a  single  vote  would  decide. 
"I  suppose  your  mind  is  made  up,  Cooley,"  he  said. 

"I  shall  vote  for  it,"  said  Cooley,  "of  course." 

"So  I  supposed,"  said  Sturgis.  "For  me,  too,  there  is 
only  one  side." 

"That  is  right,"  put  in  Howes,  "but  these  liquor  men 
are  well-organized  and  have  bushels  of  money.  They 
would  right  now  slip  a  sum  in  greenbacks  up  into  four 
figures  and  no  questions  asked  for  a  single  vote." 


A  CONVERSION  151 

"You  don't  say  so/'  said  Sturgis,  as  if  in  surprise. 
"Such  a  roll  would  look  good  to  me.  Just  how  do  they 
do  it?" 

"Why,"  said  Howes,  "you  have  simply  to  slip  word  to 
Houstein,  the  little  Jew  lawyer,  that,  whereas  you  were 
for  the  measure,  the  arguments  for  the  other  side  had  been 
so  strong  that  you  are  now  open-minded,  and  then  you 
will  receive  a  big  greenback  by  mail  as  a  kind  of  retaining 
fee  for  you  to  make  further  investigations  for  the  benefit 
of  the  House,  so  you  can  go  about  and  inquire  further 
into  the  merits  of  both  sides.  You  would,  of  course,  hear 
all  who  come  to  you  for  and  against  the  measure,  and  talk 
matters  over  with  those  you  know  who  are  for  it,  and  if 
you  are  convinced  and  vote  their  way  then  the  rest  of  the 
pile  will  reach  you  by  the  wireless  route,  and  then  there 
will  be  nothing  to  show  that  you  had  ever  had  a  cent.  It  is 
a  wonderful  method  and  absolute  secrecy  is,  of  course, 
a  matter  of  honor." 

"I  confess  I  should  like  to  know  something  more  about 
this,"  said  Sturgis.  "How  does  it  strike  you,  Gooley?" 

"Why,"  said  the  latter,  "I  don't  know  much  about 
these  things  but  it  looks  to  me  like  downright  corruption 
and  bribery.  Is  that  the  way  they  do  things  here?" 

"Well,"  said  Sturgis,  thoughtfully,  "I  am  rather  in 
clined  to  think  that  you  are  right  about  it." 

"Of  course  he  is  right,"  put  in  Howes.  "But  that  is 
the  way  the  members  of  the  opposition  work. ' ' 

Meanwhile,  the  lunch  was  most  appetizing  to  Cooley 
and  the  lemonade  had  a  delightful  and,  to  him,  new  flavor 
or  tang  about  it,  and  the  more  he  sipped  and  tasted  the 
more  he  wanted.  These  two  men  were  so  sympathetic  and 
congenial  that  he  felt  his  old  reserve  gradually  slipping 
away  from  him  and  he  became  talkative.  He  told  his  new 
found  friends  something  of  his  native  town,  his  farm,  and 
even  his  family,  and  how  he  came  to  be  elected  in  place  of 


152       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

Squire  Brewster  whom  both  the  others  knew  and  spoke  of 
in  high  terms  as  a  sagacious  man  but  not  always  inclined 
to  be  decided  enough  when  great  moral  issues  were  at 
stake,  subtly  implying  in  what  they  said  a  certain  admira 
tion  for  one  who  could  win  out  over  so  doughty  a  com 
petitor. 

It  was  now  Cooley  who  led  the  conversation,  and  he  grad 
ually  launched  out  on  a  theme  which,  thanks  to  the  many 
home  talks  in  public  on  the  subject  he  had  given  and 
especially  to  the  Advocate  he  had  so  diligently  read,  made 
him  feel  more  or  less  at  home.  And  he  surprised  and 
apparently  entertained  and  delighted  his  two  new  friends 
by  his  portrayal  of  the  evils  of  intemperance.  He  quoted 
statistics  and  told  much  of  the  sufferings  of  wives  and 
children  of  habitual  drunkards  and  of  inebriation  as  a 
cause  of  crime,  while  the  sympathies  of  his  hearers,  who 
glanced  significantly  at  each  other,  seemed  to  increase. 

"He  surely  puts  it  strong  and  well,"  said  Sturgis.  "The 
House  ought  to,  and  really  must,  hear  these  things." 

"And  that  would  probably  settle  the  fortunes  of  the 
bill,"  added  Howes. 

"Do  you  really  think  so?"  queried  Cooley. 

"Surest  thing  on  earth,"  replied  Howes.  "You  are  a 
born  advocate,  Cooley.  If  you  only  repeat  what  you  said 
here  to  us,  and  with  the  same  fervor,  it  will  settle  the  fate 
of  the  measure.  Wet  your  lips  with  one  more  drink  of 
this  lemonade  and  we  will  return  and  shall  be  just  in  time 
for  the  afternoon  session." 

Thus  fortified  within  and  without,  Cooley,  escorted  by 
one  friend  at  either  arm,  entered  the  Chamber  just  as 
the  speaker's  gavel  fell,  calling  the  session  to  order.  The 
morning  discussion  of  the  Prohibition  Bill  was  to  be  con 
tinued. 

Before  any  one  else  could  do  so,  Cooley  rose  and  his 
voice  rang  out  clearly  and  strongly,  "Mr.  Speaker!"  He 


A  CONVERSION  153 

was  recognized,  as  he  a  little  uncertainly  rose  in  his  place, 
steadying  himself  with  a  hand  on  either  side  of  the  ma 
hogany  desk  before  him. 

* '  Mr.  Speaker, ' '  he  began,  '  *  I  represent  but  a  small  part 
of  this  great  State.  I  had  not  meant  to  speak  but  my 
good  friends,  Sturgis  and  Howes,"  pointing  to  each  of 
them,  "tell  me  that  it  is  my  duty,  and  I  (hie)  never 
shirk  a  duty. ' ' 

The  House  was  quick  to  divine  the  situation,  and  a 
hearty  round  of  applause  rang  out  with  cries  of  ' '  Bravo ! ' ' 
and  one  keen  member  from  the  opposition  shouted,  ' '  Three 
cheers  for  Sturgis  and  Howes." 

Cooley  was  flushed  and  pleased  and  his  manner  showed 
that,  having  so  successfully  broken  the  ice,  he  was  resolved 
to  push  on  and  do  his  duty  to  the  very  uttermost.  He  drew 
a  deep  breath,  grasped  the  desk  more  firmly,  and  pro 
ceeded. 

"Yes,  it  is  my  duty/'  he  shouted,  "to  raise  my  feeble 
voice  against  the  infamous  iniquity  of  King  Alcohol  who 
is  so  firmly  enthroned  in  this  State." 

Here  came  a  new  salvo  of  more  prolonged  applause  which 
the  Speaker  could  not  suppress,  but  this  time  it  was  all  by 
the  opposition,  while  the  supporters  of  the  bill  were  silent. 

"Bum,"  he  cried,  "is  the  greatest  curse  in  the  world," 
banging  his  fist  down  on  the  desk  with  a  resounding  thump. 
"Think  of  all  the  poor  wives  and  hungry,  starving  chil 
dren "  Here  his  voice  broke  and  a  tear  from  either 

eye  coursed  down  his  cheek  as  he  thrust  both  hands  into 
his  pocket  for  his  handkerchief.  In  regaining  his  poise  he 
swayed  over  toward  the  right  and  then  over  toward  the 
left.  The  room  seemed  to  be  whirling  about  him  and,  catch 
ing  at  the  next  desk,  he  fell  prone  in  the  aisle.  Such  a 
scene  had  not  been  witnessed  in  the  Capitol  before  in  the 
memory  of  the  oldest  members.  Amidst  confusion  and  out 
cry  Cooley  was  picked  up  and  borne,  feebly  struggling  but 


154       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

loudly  vociferating,  from  the  hall  and  into  a  small  ante 
room,  where  he  was  deposited  upon  a  couch  and  left  to  a 
comatose,  soon  to  be  a  stertorous,  sleep. 

Thus  Sturgis,  the  boss  of  the  liquor  party  in  the  legisla 
ture,  and  Howes,  the  experienced  lobbyist,  killed  the  Pro 
hibition  Bill  for  that  year.  "They  got  up  a  scream  and 
strangled  it,"  as  one  member  tersely  put  it. 

Poor  Cooley  awoke  hours  later  and  made  his  way  back 
alone  to  his  hotel,  slowly  realizing  what  had  befallen  him. 
It  was  too  disgusting  and  also  humiliating  for  him  or  any 
one  to  face.  Even  the  scavenger  press  stated  that  he  had 
fallen  suddenly  ill  in  the  midst  of  an  impassioned  speech, 
but  all  his  colleagues  knew  that  such  things  would  eventu 
ally  spread  even  to  Stringfield.  He  felt  he  could  never 
go  back  to  the  House,  or  even  face  his  home  again.  Thus 
he  lingered,  day  after  day,  in  the  hotel,  and  wandered  about 
the  city  most  of  all  in  the  evenings.  Once  or  twice  he 
met  a  legislator  who  inquired,  with  a  veneer  of  courtesy 
to  veil  the  irony  of  it,  how  he  had  recovered  from  his 
shock.  But  he  knew  that  they  knew  the  awful  fact  that 
the  pillar  of  virtue  in  his  community  had  been  drunk,  very 
drunk,  and  had  made  a  ghastly  exhibition  of  himself  and 
defeated  the  cause  he  loved  and  was  commissioned  to  up 
hold  in  the  Capitol  of  his  State.  To  explain  would  be  to 
reveal  himself  as  a  "rube"  and  a  fool,  as  well  as  a  weak 
ling.  There  seemed  no  way  out.  Rehabilitation  was  im 
possible.  Thus  as  the  days  passed  he  came  to  regard  him 
self  almost  as  an  outcast  and  heard  within  all  the  mad  coun 
sels  of  despair. 

From  his  intolerable  reflections  he  instinctively  grasped 
at  every  source  of  diversion.  It  was  the  mad  instinct  of 
self-preservation.  He  ventured  into  the  theater,  an  insti 
tution  he  had  never  seen  before,  and  found  it  harmless  and 
amazingly  entertaining,  so  much  so  that  he  went  again 
and  again.  Movie  shows  of  all  sorts  helped  him  to  forget 


A  CONVERSION  155 

his  distress.  He  strolled  into  the  nine  A.  M.  session  of  the 
police  court,  and  learned  much  that  was  new  and  instruc 
tive  of  the  seamy  side  of  life  and  how  the  other  half  lived. 
He  fell  in  with  a  very  engaging  drummer  at  his  hotel, 
who  seemed  drawn  to  him,  and  the  attraction  became  mu 
tual.  This  Cohen  was  full  of  interesting  and  racy  remi 
niscences  which  suggested  certain  temptations  that  Cooley 
had  never  felt  before.  One  night  they  strolled  into  a  bar 
room  and  both  took  a  glass  of  beer,  and  later  he  sipped 
rather  freely  from  a  cocktail  that  was  brought  while  they 
were  'dining  together. 

"One  must  learn,"  he  told  himself,  "to  know  the  enemy 
if  he  meets  him  again,  and  also  one  must  be  convinced  that 
he  can  indulge  and  remain  temperate.  To  resist  is  better 
than  to  flee  temptation." 

Another  stranger  and  transient  guest  at  his  hostelry  in 
itiated  him  into  bridge.  And  once  he  staked  a  dollar  on  a 
game  of  poker,  won,  and  had  the  courage  and  the  sense 
not  to  play  again  that  night.  He  yielded  to  the  fascina 
tion  of  billiards  enough  to  see  that  he  might  indulge  more, 
if  he  wanted  to,  without  scathe.  He  smoked  a  little,  enough 
to  know  how  it  felt,  and,  to  make  our  narrative  complete, 
he  even  toyed  with  other  temptations  in  ways  that  must 
here  only  be  suggested  and  which  cannot  be  described.  He 
was  intent  only  on  knowing  life  as  it  really  was,  and  he 
had  a  confidence,  which  proved  fully  justified,  that  he 
would  not  fail  in  his  experiments.  He  had  a  kind  of  in 
stinct  to  be  led  into  temptation,  rather  than  to  be  saved 
from  it,  as  Jesus  prayed.  Perhaps  the  ideal  that  lay  con 
cealed  at  the  bottom  of  his  soul  was  not  unlike  that  of  Du 
mas,  who  wanted  to  know  everything,  evil  as  well  as  good, 
in  the  world.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  all  these  little  adventures 
together  served  to  lift  the  curtain  to  a  great  world  of 
which  he  had  hitherto  known  nothing,  and  what  was  his 
surprise  to  find  that  he  liked  it  passing  well  and  he  thought 


156       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

that  he  was  not  harmed  but  benefited  by  it.  The  kind  of 
virtue  he  now  longed  for  was  a  manly  virtue  that  did  not 
need  the  support  of  precepts  that  appealed  to  juveniles, 
and  it  was  also  of  the  normal  kind  which  did  not  need  as 
ceticism  or  any  extreme  curative  treatment.  What  he  was 
really  after  was  a  true  classical  temperance  that  held  a 
golden  way  between  all  extremes  and  regarded  nothing 
human  as  foreign.  Thus  it  was  that  Cooley  went  through  a 
kind  of  moral  molting. 

Then  the  long-delayed  blow  fell.  He  had  not  once  re 
visited  his  seat  in  the  House  since  the  awful  incident  that 
had  proved  so  tragically  undoing,  but  had  intimated  noth 
ing  of  this  in  his  letters  home,  although  nearly  three 
months  had  passed.  One  day  he  received  a  marked  copy  of 
the  home  paper,  which  intimated  in  a  veiled,  yet  most  sug 
gestive  manner  what  had  really  happened.  "What  if  a 
certain  prominent  citizen  sent  out  on  a  mission  to  the  Capi 
tol  had  disgraced  himself  and  wrecked  the  cause  he  was 
sent  to  serve  by  a  public  exhibition  of  intoxication,  and  if 
his  seat  in  the  assembly,  where  he  was  sent  to  look  after 
the  interests  of  those  who  elected  him,  had  been  vacant  ever 
since  that  incident?"  etc.,  etc.  It  might  have  at  first 
struck  one  as  a  libel,  but  he  knew  that  in  fact  it  was  but 
a  part  of  the  whole  shameful  truth.  He  must  act.  But 
how?  His  wilder  thoughts  suggested  that  he  mortgage  his 
farm  and  start  for  parts  unknown,  beginning  life  anew 
and  under  another  name.  But  he  had  done  nothing  really 
wrong,  and  flight  would  look  too  much  like  a  confession  of 
real  guilt.  He  was  no  coward.  It  took  him  a  long  time  to 
make  up  his  mind,  but  when  he  did,  he  acted,  as  was  his 
wont,  with  promptitude.  He  wrote  to  the  chairman  of  his 
party  committee  at  home,  resigning  his  office  as  legislator, 
to  take  effect  at  once,  "for  personal  reasons."  Shortly 
after  he  went  home,  he  gathered  his  family  together  and 
told  them  frankly  the  whole  story  that  centered  in  the 


A  CONVERSION  157 

fateful  and  singularly  tinctured  lemonade.  But  if  there 
were  no  reservations,  there  were  also  no  details  in  this 
family  confession  about  his  life  in  the  Capitol  during  the 
subsequent  months.  This  little  course  he  had  given  him 
self  in  the  great  school  of  life  was  his  own  secret.  In  con 
clusion  he  told  his  household  that  he  had  brought  home 
from  the  legislature  a  newer  and  larger  view  of  life,  that, 
whereas  he  was  asleep  before,  he  was  now  awake,  and  that 
they  would  see  a  change  and  that  he  believed  himself  a 
new  and  better  man,  and  that  he  had  a  truer  and  richer  out 
look  upon  the  world,  and  that  he  was  going  to  adopt  a  new 
religious  creed,  for  he  had  heard  considerable  liberal  and 
some  radical  views,  not  only  from  the  pulpits  during  his 
peregrinations  among  them  on  Sundays,  but  from  men  of 
the  world  he  had  met.  Thus  he  returned  to  his  place  and 
his  home  and  his  work  upon  the  farm. 

But  socially  he  was  ostracized  to  a  degree  possible  per 
haps  nowhere  but  in  a  conservative  old  town  in  New  Eng 
land.  But  it  was  his  family  that  suffered  most.  The  chil 
dren  were  taunted  because  their  "drunkard"  father  had 
disgraced  the  whole  town.  And,  most  of  all,  his  wedded 
partner  of  twenty  years,  pious,  austere,  more  conserva 
tive  and  untraveled  even  than  her  husband  and  long  in 
feeble  health,  weakened,  sickened  and  died  under  the  shock 
and  mortification  of  it  all — "of  heartbreak,"  the  gossips 
said. 

As  for  his  former  activities  in  the  church,  in  which  most 
of  the  social  life  of  the  community  had  long  centered, 
Cooley  had  sagacity  enough  to  know  that  even  if  he  had 
wanted  to  renew  them,  he  would  be  no  longer  welcome. 
And  so  he  absented  himself  from  all  religious  services  and 
resigned  his  office  of  deacon.  But  this  did  not  satisfy  the 
watchdogs  of  Zion,  and  when  he  ignored  the  summons  of 
the  church  committee  to  appear  before  its  members  and 


158       RECREATIONS  OF       PSYCHOLOGIST 


explain  and  confess,  he  was  dropped  from  the  roll  of  church 
members. 

Some  of  the  most  scientific  students  of  human  nature 
have  lately  told  us  that  the  middle  forties  are  on  the  whole 
the  very  best  years  of  a  normal,  modern  man's  life,  that 
about  then  men  incline  to  take  stock  of  life  and  perhaps 
take  new  tacks,  and  that  almost  never  afterward  do  great 
changes  occur  either  for  better  or  for  worse.  It  was  just 
this  law  that  Cooley  now,  though  all  unconsciously,  illus 
trated.  For  a  time  he  again  thought  of  making  the  break 
with  his  past  complete  by  selling  his  ancestral  acres  and 
home  and  going  West  and  starting  anew.  But  he  knew 
that  there,  too,  sooner  or  later,  wherever  he  might  settle  his 
story  would  find  him  out.  This  course,  moreover,  did  not 
square  with  his  New  England  conscience,  and  to  his  dogged 
will  it  seemed  too  much  like  retreat,  if  not  confession.  The 
net  result  of  his  many  musings  was  that  he  decided,  like 
Hester  in  The  Scarlet  Letter,  to  stay  right  where  he  was 
-and  to  make  the  best  and  the  most  of  the  rest  of  his  life. 
If  his  "fall"  had  really,  as  the  church  thought,  cut  off  his 
hope  for  a  better  future  beyond  the  grave,  he  would  try  to 
get  all  he  possibly  could  out  of  the  here  and  now.  "One 
world  at  a  time,  gentlemen,  and  this  one  now,  '  '  he  had  read 
somewhere,  and  liked  the  sentiment. 

Thus,  off  soon  to  the  State  Agricultural  College  went 
both  his  sons,  where  they  were  told  to  learn  everything  new 
and  good  that  could  possibly  be  applied  to  the  old  place. 
Soon,  too,  the  girls  were  sent  away  to  a  school  of  domestic 
science  and  social  service,  with  courses  of  physical  train 
ing,  dancing,  etc.  He  bought  beer  by  the  keg  and  served 
it  out  moderately  every  evening  to  such  of  his  workmen  as 
desired  it.  He  bought  a  billiard  table  and  had  a  large  attic, 
hitherto  unused,  finished  off  and  furnished  as  a  kind  of 
clubroom,  where  smoking  was  not  disallowed.  And  now 
that  the  children  were  away  and  the  wife  dead  and  the 


A  CONVERSION  159 

farm  work  increasing,  he  had  to  employ  six  men  and  two 
women  to  conduct  the  place  properly.  Under  these  cir 
cumstances  all  were  loyal  and  interested,  and  the  attrac 
tion  of  the  saloon  in  town  abated  for  his  men. 

Sunday  presented  a  serious  problem.  No  work  save  the 
necessary  chores  was  done  and  every  one  did  as  he  pleased. 
On  that  day  the  carry-all  was  placed  at  the  disposal  of  pic 
nic  parties,  and  some  evenings  a  few  of  the  neighbors 
came  in  for  a  social  dance  or  a  card  game,  to  the  great 
scandal  of  the  orthodox  and  the  pious.  Young  people  were 
especially  attracted,  and  despite  the  affirmations  of  the 
clergyman  that  in  the  Cooley  place  the  Sabbath  was  being 
desecrated,  they  continued  to  frequent  it,  especially  Sun 
day  evenings  when  those  that  were  able  furnished  music. 

Thus  things  went  on  for  two  years.  The  boys  had 
brought  home  many  useful  and  practical  ideas.  The  old 
mill-pond  on  their  place  was  drained  and  its  rich  deposit 
of  muck  and  loam  used  on  the  farm  as  fertilizer  and  sold. 
A  gravel  pit,  long  freely  accessible  to  all,  was  commercial 
ized  and  a  small  fee  was  charged  per  cart-load  to  all  who  used 
it.  The  Cooleys  adopted  the  fashion  of  using  it  for  con 
crete,  for  which  an  outfit  was  bought,  and  this  was  loaned 
for  a  small  fee  when  not  needed  for  home  work.  With  its 
aid,  a  new  barn  with  model  stables  was  constructed,  and 
then  adjoining  it  a  silo,  and  later  a  model  pig-  and  hen 
house  were  built.  The  soil  of  the  various  parts  of  the  farm 
had  been  taken  to  the  College  and  analyzed,  and  new  crops 
were  put  in  with  fertilizer  as  suggested  by  the  analysis. 
Improved  machinery  was  bought  and  put  to  work.  A 
water-gas  plant  was  put  in  and  its  products  used  for  cook 
ing  and  lighting.  The  attention  of  a  large  company  of 
manufacturers  of  agricultural  instruments  in  a  distant 
city  was  attracted  and  this  concern,  after  due  deliberation, 
adopted  the  policy  of  making  the  Cooley  place  a  model  to 
show  the  community  what  could  be  done;  so  their  advice 


160       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  now  added  to  the  suggestions  the  boys  brought  for  the 
land  and  the  girls  for  the  house.  Here  the  neighbors  could 
see  object-lessonwise  what  the  very  latest  methods  and 
appliances  could  do.  Exhibitions  were  held  and  new  in 
struments,  tools,  and  new  methods  of  doing  work  were 
demonstrated. 

Cooley  was  now  forty-seven.  Just  before  his  ''fall/' 
a  new  female  principal  had  come  to  the  old,  and  very 
slightly  endowed,  local  academy,  which  was  half  pri 
mary  and  half  high  school.  She  meanwhile  was  bring 
ing,  too,  a  new  spirit  to  the  town  through  the  medium 
of  the  young  people.  She  insisted  that  teaching  the  need 
ful  standard  topics  of  the  old  curriculum  should  be  sup 
plemented  in  many  ways,  so  that  children  should  know  all 
possible  about  their  environment.  Under  her  guidance  and 
inspiration  they  collected,  pressed  and  labeled  grasses, 
ferns,  and,  in  short,  specimens  of  all  the  local  flora.  A 
kind  of  town  museum  was  started  in  an  unused  upper  room 
of  the  older  of  the  two  school  buildings,  where  insects,  both 
harmless  and  pestiferous,  samples  of  local  birds  and  their 
nests  and  eggs,  and  all  the  land  fauna  were  gathered.  The 
school  botany  and  zoology  were  thus  made  practical.  Greek 
was  dropped,  and  Latin  dwindled  save  for  a  few  who  defi 
nitely  planned  careers  in  which  it  would  be  of  service. 
History  was  taught  backward  from  current  events,  and  be 
gan  in  the  story  of  the  town  and  widened  centrifugally  to 
that  of  the  county,  the  state,  the  nation,  and  the  world. 
Culinary  art  and  domestic  science  were  taught  practically 
to  the  girls.  Parent  conferences  were  organized,  the  school 
grounds  were  improved,  a  school  bank  started,  and  the 
older  pupils  even  founded  a  civic  club  where  local  affairs 
were  debated,  and  finally  a  school  press  was  organized, 
which  published  a  tiny  weekly  sheet  devoted  to  local  bet 
terment,  noting  improvements,  defects  and  needs  in  door- 
yards,  gardens,  houses,  walks,  and  roadways,  in  which  the 


'A  CONVERSION  161 

Cooley  place  often  figured  favorably.  The  school  gardens 
and  playgrounds,  which  had  been  begun  years  before  but 
had  fallen  into  neglect,  were  revived,  enlarged  and  put  to 
work,  for  the  new  school-mistress  had  traveled,  read  and 
thought  much  along  the  most  progressive  educational  lines, 
to  a  degree,  indeed,  which  had  brought  disaster  to  her  in 
a  larger  and  more  censored  and  oversupervised  school  sys 
tem  in  another  part  of  the  state.  But  Selma  Sears  clung 
to  her  own  convictions,  and  here  she  was  popular  from 
the  start,  and  her  work  was  soon  found  so  useful  by  the 
community  that,  as  time  passed,  the  committee,  although 
its  members  often  shook  their  heads  at  the  new  departures, 
did  not  feel  sure  or  strong  enough  to  offer  much  opposition. 
The  worst  thing  about  Miss  Sears  was  that  she  showed 
little  evidence  of  being  religious  as  this  was  understood  by 
this  community.  She  had  attended  church  the  first  two  Sun 
days  she  had  spent  in  town,  but  had  not  been  seen  there 
since,  and  when  she  was  approached  by  the  superintendent 
(who  showed  some  inquisitiveness  about  her  religious  state 
of  mind  and  standing)  about  taking  a  class  in  the  Sunday 
School,  she  had  gone  so  far  as  to  glance  over  the  standard 
lessons  she  would  be  required  to  teach  and  declined  "for 
want  of  time  and  strength."  In  fact,  she  had  wisely  de 
cided  that  no  salvation  could  come  to  this  community  from, 
the  droning  church  she  had  found  there. 

Miss  Sears  sent  a  request  to  Cooley  to  bring  her  upper 
classes  over  to  his  place  some  Saturday,  and  when  they 
came  Cooley  elected  himself  chairman  of  a  reception  com 
mittee,  the  other  members  of  which  were  his  two  sons  and 
his  two  daughters.  The  latest  novelties  in  farm  procedure 
were  demonstrated,  and  refreshments  served,  and  thus  and 
then  it  was  that  Cooley  and  Miss  Sears,  who  had  heard 
so  much  favorable  and  unfavorable  of  each  other,  met. 
Both  realized  that  they  were  working  for  the  same  uplift 
to  the  community  by  different  methods  and  that  they 


162       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

thus  had  much  in  common.  Cooley  had  by  this  time  far 
more  than  regained  his  former  self-respect,  and  had  not 
only  self-confidence  but  a  strong  vein  of  new  ambitions, 
some  of  which,  although  he  had  hardly  begun  to  realize  it 
yet,  extended  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  acres.  In  place 
of  his  earlier  hectic  religiosity  there  was  a  sullen,  smolder 
ing  rancor  against  the  cruel  judgments  of  society,  and  espe 
cially  against  the  pharisaic  righteousness  of  the  church 
that,  instead  of  forgiving  seventy  times  seven,  welcoming 
the  prodigal,  seeking  out  the  one  lost  sheep,  etc.,  had  so 
lightly  put  its  cruel  ban  upon  a  man's  whole  life,  which 
had,  save  for  a  single  lapse,  been  blameless.  Selma  Sears, 
too,  had  dismally  failed  in  her  first  educational  position 
and  had  her  own  little  inferno  of  doubts  whether  all  her 
well-nourished  and  warmly  cherished  ideals  might  have  to 
be,  after  all,  unrealizable.  But  her  years  of  success  here 
had  given  her,  too,  new  hope  and  confidence.  Thus,  as  a 
result  of  this  meeting,  each  felt  that  the  other  was  an 
ally,  and  that  there  could  and  should  be  some  kind  of  union 
of  their  forces. 

It  was  Selma  who  first  suggested  betterment  meetings  at 
the  farm  Sunday  afternoons.  To  the  objections  of  those 
who  might  hesitate  at  attending  on  account  of  the  day,  it 
was  said  that  the  church  had  allowed  Sunday  afternoons 
to  go  to  waste  till  it  had  become  not  merely  useless  to  the 
community,  but  often  worse,  for  temptations  follow  in  the 
wake  of  idleness.  The  first  session  was  on  gardens.  Each 
told  what  he  or  she  was  doing.  Then  the  elder  Cooley  boy 
told  what  he  had  seen  at  the  College  and  what  he  had 
read,  and  new  departures  were  suggested.  Other  sessions 
were  devoted  to  flowers,  poultry,  sheep,  livestock,  water 
supply,  walls  and  fences,  roads,  each  of  the  chief  crops 
of  Stringfield,  the  new  and  the  old  education,  newspapers 
and  periodicals  in  connection  with  the  old  library  now  kept 
open  every  Sunday  and  every  Saturday  evening,  the  insti- 


A  CONVERSION  163 

tutional  church  and  church  extension  and  federation,  for, 
besides  the  larger  church  already  mentioned,  there  were 
five  other  feebler  ones  in  town.  After  much  discussion, 
culminating  in  the  annual  town  meeting,  it  was  voted  by 
a  very  small  majority  to  open  the  Academy  building  to 
these  meetings,  and  when  they  were  held  here  educational 
themes  were  in  order,  especially  the  various  forms  of  school 
extension.  Cooley  opened  a  special  pasture  for  golf,  and 
a  ball-field  was  measured  off  here  and  three  tennis  courts 
fitted  up,  and  a  bath-house  erected  beside  the  old  South 
Pond  on  which  Cooley 's  land  abutted,  and  evenings  the 
new  barn  floor  made  a  good  dancing  pavilion.  Here,  too, 
light  drinks  were  served  at  plain  board  tables.  In  the  fall 
an  amusement  hall  was  erected,  with  light  and  heat,  as  a 
more  permanent  home  for  all  these  social  activities,  and  in 
it  was  a  small,  simple  stage  for  amateur  dramatics  and  a 
stand  for  the  band  which  one  of  Miss  Sears'  teachers  had 
organized. 

Thus  Stringfield  gradually  came  to  be  divided  into  three 
groups:  first,  the  church  people,  religious,  severe,  or 
thodox  and  uncompromising,  and  antagonistic  to  these  lib 
eral  amusements;  second,  the  saloon  group,  composed 
chiefly  of  the  workmen  and  women  in  a  large  woolen  mill, 
where  almost  the  only  foreign  element  of  the  population 
was  found;  while  the  Cooley-Sears  group  made  up  the 
third.  The  first  and  second  were  thus  brought  into  a 
strange  harmony  in  the  bitterness  of  their  antagonism  to 
the  third.  Although  they  never  ostentatiously  made  com 
mon  cause,  none  could  fail  to  perceive  that  there  was  a 
very  unique  sympathy  that  was  likely  to  spring  up  between 
the  interests  of  these  hereditary  foes,  for  the  church  and 
the  factory  interests  always  voted  against  every  suggestion 
emanating  from  the  other  group. 

The  church  was  the  first  to  weaken,  and  finally  to  capitu 
late,  for  it  was  just  at  this  juncture  that  there  arrived  a 


164       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

new  preacher  and  his  wife,  whose  acquaintance  one  of  the 
Cooley  boys  had  made,  and  suggested  to  his  father,  who 
had  judiciously  and  very  indirectly  and  diplomatically  en 
gineered  him  into  his  position.  He  and  his  young  wife 
were  fresh  from  their  studies  and  with  no  experience  save 
a  year  in  social  service  work.  He  and  his  sagacious  help 
mate  soon  realized  the  situation.  With  great  tact  and  in 
the  face  of  difficulties  that  often  seemed  insurmountable, 
he  organized  an  Inter-Church  Young  People's  Club,  and 
this  was  soon  leavened  by  those  members  of  it  who  had 
fallen  under  the  Cooley-Sears  influences.  It  was  in  some 
sense  a  conflict  between  the  young  and  the  old  in  which 
families  were  often  divided.  But  it  was  a  very  vital  and 
new  bond  of  union  between  the  hitherto  aloof  and  often 
hostile  sects,  and  its  organization  really  came  to  mark  an 
epoch  in  the  history  of  Stringfield.  And  after  much  strenu 
ous  debate  the.  Cooleyites  were  even  invited  to  use  the 
church  buildings  and  grounds  as  they  wished  for  their 
Sunday  afternoon  meetings,  which  had  so  far  been  held 
either  at  the  farm  or  at  the  school. 

The  Rev.  Frank  Burke  was  fearless  and  aggressive,  and 
his  wife  winning.  Cooley  was  invited  back  to  full  member 
ship  in  the  church  with  its  now  very  socialistic,  ethical,  and 
non-theological  creed,  and  he  consented  to  return  to  the 
parish,  but  to  the  church  never  again.  Selma  Sears  fol 
lowed  his  example.  In  the  new  parish  house,  next  to  the 
church,  there  was  a  reading  and  smoking  room  and  here 
two  pool  tables  were  set  up  with  stands  for  cards  and, 
strange  to  relate,  these  games  under  proper  supervision  held 
their  own  despite  severe  criticism.  And  thus  the  regener 
ating  influence  of  the  play  spirit  was  set  to  work. 

Meanwhile,  the  reports  of  these  extraordinary  and  rapid 
new  departures  spread  abroad,  often  at  first  in  a  most 
exaggerated  and  sometimes  perverse  form,  so  that  visitors 
from  a  distance,  at  first  social  workers,  and  then  teachers, 


A  CONVERSION  165 

preachers,  and  a  few  young  graduates  and  lawyers  with 
political  ambitions,  came.  The  two  other  clergymen  who 
lived  in  the  town  began  to  Be  seen  at  the  Sunday  afternoon 
sessions,  amazed  and  shocked  at  first,  but  slowly  realizing 
that  their  ministrations  had  been  dull  and  unappealing. 
And  thus  they  slowly  awoke,  as  if  from  a  long  and  tedious 
dream,  and  found  new  inspiration  as  they  saw  that  even 
amusements  that  they  had  always  opposed  could  be  made 
not  only  innocent  but  regenerative.  And  slowly  the  oppo 
sition,  which  had  at  first  been  vociferous  and  sometimes 
almost  vituperative,  subsided  and  the  staid  citizens  of 
Stringfield,  who  had  lived  the  lives  of  their  progenitors 
with  but  slight  and  few  concessions  to  the  modern  pro 
gressive  god  of  things  as  they  are,  began  to  feel  in  their 
hearts  a  new  pride  in  their  town  and  the  recognition  it  was 
winning  in  the  larger  world  outside. 

Now  the  common  enemy  was  the  great  factory  and  the 
hotel  with  its  bar,  owned  and  operated  by  a  strong  absentee 
corporation,  so  that  here  a  new  strategy  was  needful.  The 
long  row  of  workmen's  and  women's  tenements  upon  the 
lower  street  was  crowded,  unhygienic  and  squalid,  and  the 
moral  condition  of  the  employees  was  bad.  At  least  half 
of  them  were  of  foreign  birth,  and  there  were  almost  no 
recreations  and  no  social  intercourse  between  them  and  the 
rest  of  the  town.  Here  again,  Cooley,  now  the  leading  and 
most  prosperous  citizen,  was  appealed  to,  and  slowly  and 
surely  he  began  to  feel  a  new  responsibility.  Thus,  after 
some  preliminary  investigations,  the  three  allies,  the 
teacher,  the  pastor  and  his  wife,  called  upon  the  resident 
manager  of  the  factory  and  set  forth  such  facts  and  statis 
tics  as  they  had  been  able  to  gather,  concerning  truancy, 
crime,  immorality,  intemperance,  and  living  conditions. 
They  told  him  that  the  new  prominence  Stringfield  was 
acquiring  in  the  county  and  state  made  the  conditions  as 
represented  certain  in  the  near  future  to  be  given  unfa- 


166       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

vorable  publicity,  adding  that  in  their  opinion  better  wages 
and  housing  were  imperative.  Hickson  listened  to  all  they 
had  to  say,  but  expressed  little  sympathy,  either  in  manner 
or  words,  but  promised  to  bring  the  matter  before  the  im 
pending  meeting  of  the  directors.  Ten  days  later  he  gave 
them  their  answer,  which  was  in  effect  that  under  the  pres 
ent  conditions  of  the  market  and  of  raw  material  his  board 
of  directors  could  not  see  their  way  just  now  to  take  defi 
nite  action  but  would  not  forget  the  matter,  adding  signifi 
cantly  that  if  changes  were  really  needed  they  themselves 
would  naturally  be  the  first  to  see  them,  and  would  have 
the  strongest  motive  to  act  without  outside  suggestion. 

Seeing  in  these  temporizing  generalities  no  prospect  of 
amelioration  the  self -constituted  committee  realized  that 
they  must  find  another  angle  of  approach.  The  first  step 
they  decided  on  was  to  bring  in  a  trained  investigator  of 
factory  conditions  and  his  woman  helper.  After  a  few 
weeks  their  report  was  filed.  It  covered  wages,  profits, 
hours  of  labor,  housing  conditions,  hygienic  and  moral  sug 
gestions.  The  showing  was,  on  the  whole,  not  less  than  ap 
palling.  In  this  establishment  at  this  somewhat  isolated 
place  almost  every  law  of  safety  against  accident,  disease, 
cleanliness,  care  of  the  old  and  disabled,  school  attendance, 
child  labor,  work  of  young  mothers  before  and  after  con 
finement,  had  been  disregarded,  and  immorality  and  drunk 
enness  had  flourished.  The  Factory  Board  itself  owned 
and  made  a  generous  profit  from  the  saloon  and  hotel.  It 
also  owned  the  groceries  and  other  stores  where  clothing  and 
domestic  wares  were  sold  at  excessive  rates.  It  tabooed 
unions  and  collective  bargaining,  hiring  and  discharging 
individuals  at  its  own  sweet  will. 

When  the  suBstance  of  this  report  was  laid  before  Hick- 
son  his  indignation  was  uncontrolled.  The  facts  and  fig 
ures  were  met  by  a  blank  denial,  and  he  insisted  that  these 
things  were  no  business  of  outsiders  and  that  such  inquii 


A  CONVERSION  167 

without  authorization  of  the  company  was  impertinence, 
and  challenged  the  reformers  to  do  their  worst. 

The  battle  was  now  on,  for  it  was  too  late  to  beat  a  re 
treat.  Hence,  at  Cooley's  advice  a  dozen  of  the  most  in 
telligent  workmen  and  two  women  were  invited  to  the 
farm  one  Sunday  afternoon  and  the  outline  of  this  expert  'a 
report,  which  was  essentially  true,  was  laid  before  them. 
To  their  delight  the  Catholic  priest,  who  had  ministered  to 
most  of  the  factory  people  who  still  held  allegiance  to  any 
church,  invited  himself  to  this  conference  and  proved  most 
sympathetic  and  helpful.  From  him,  too,  it  was  found 
that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  unrest  and  far  more  recogni 
tion  of  hard  conditions  on  the  part  of  the  toilers  themselves 
than  the  committee  had  dreamed  of.  It  was  at  this  meeting 
that,  after  long  discussion,  the  extreme  method  of  a  strike, 
which,  despite  its  dangers,  seemed  on  the  whole  the  only 
way  out,  was  finally  agreed  upon  as  the  only  expedient  pos 
sible  under  the  circumstances,  and  to  this  end  the  details 
of  procedure  were  worked  out. 

"We  have  no  space  or  need  to  describe  the  stirring  weeks 
and  months  that  followed.  Unionization,  carefully  drawn 
demands  presented  and  denied,  a  walkout,  a  lockout,  pick 
eting  against  scabs,  injunctions,  and  later  riots  and  sabo 
tage,  and  finally  a  great  explosion  and  a  fire  that  destroyed 
the  mill  and  most  of  the  tenements,  marked  the  stages  of 
this  attempt  at  reform.  Dynamite  had  been  found  near 
the  big  dam  in  time  to  save  a  part  of  it,  but  most  of  the 
lower  village  had  been  swept  away,  with  some  loss  of  life. 
The  syndicate  that  had  made  the  mill  here  a  part  of  a  larger 
trust  system  found  it  inexpedient  to  rebuild,  and  all  that 
remained  of  its  holdings  was  sold  for  a  song  to  a  group  of 
local  men,  headed  by  Cooley,  most  of  the  employees  mean 
while  having  left  town. 

With  the  dam  partially  and  power-plant  wholly  intact, 
it  was  at  length  decided  to  utilize  them.  First  a  gristmill 


168       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  built  that  ground  what  corn  and  grain  it  could  and 
sold  at  moderate  profits,  such  as  meal,  shorts,  and  other 
provender  as  was  demanded  by  the  farmers.  Then  came 
a  new  creamery,  which  connected  and  evaluated  the  milk 
with  a  Babcock  centrifugal  machine  and  soon  made  cheese. 
A  new  sawmill  came  next.  Then  electricity  was  generated- 
and  sold,  and  finally,  as  there  was  still  much  power,  a 
modern  woolen  mill  of  sufficient  size  to  take  care  of  the 
products  of  this  sheep-raising  county  was  built  and  put  to 
work,  and  new  cottage  tenements  of  the  latest  patterns 
erected.  An  expert  was  brought  in  to  test  every  employee 
for  general  intelligence  and  efficiency,  and  each  was  given 
his  place  in  the  establishment  accordingly.  Moral  stamina 
was  evaluated  as  far  as  that  could  be  done.  The  latest 
machinery  was  put  in.  A  cooperative  emporium  was  or 
ganized  and  the  principle  of  profit-sharing  was  everywhere 
adopted.  The  old  hotel,  which  had  been  acquired  by  its 
proprietor  from  the  company  and  which  had  held  out 
against  the  rising  tide  of  reform,  at  length  capitulated  and 
became  a  community  house,  and  its  bar  was  allowed  to  sell 
only  beer  and  light  wines.  Easy  terms  were  arranged  for 
the  workmen  who  desired  to  purchase  their  homes  and  the 
ample  gardens  that  were  attached  to  each.  A  trade  school, 
the  curriculum  of  which  had  special  reference  to  local  insti 
tutions,  was  begun.  The  dangers  of  paternalism  were  rec 
ognized  from  the  start  and  the  notion  of  self-help  was  al 
ways  and  everywhere  appealed  to.  Thus,  in  as  many  ways 
as  the  water  comes  down  at  Lodore,  the  lower  street  was  at 
length  redeemed  and  Stringfield  came  to  be  as  proud  of  it 
as  of  its  agricultural  and  social  and  religious  progressive- 
ness. 

Now  Cooley  was  nearing  fifty  and  Selma  Sears,  who  had 
been  his  active  coadjutor  in  so  many  of  his  community  ac 
tivities,  was  thirty-five.  Both  his  sons  and  his  elder  daugh 
ter  were  married  and  lived  in  nearby  homes  of  their  own. 


A  CONVERSION  169 

His  farm  was  well  manned  and  he  began  to  relax  from  his 
arduous  labor,  while  Miss  Sears'  school  now  almost  ran 
itself.  Both  of  them  had  a  pleasing  sense  of  tasks  success 
fully  accomplished,  numerous  as  were  the  details  that  yet 
required  attention.  Both  had  time  to  look  in  a  broader 
way  at  the  present  and  to  wonder  what  the  rest  of  their 
lives  had  in  store.  Both  had  passed  the  age  of  romance, 
and  each  respected  the  character  and  the  achievements  of 
the  other.  So  absorbed  had  both  been  in  their  work  for 
the  community  that  they  had  had  little  time  to  think  of 
their  personal  relations,  despite  the  fact  that  they  had 
been  very  close  and  confidential.  Their  cooperation  had 
always  been  complete  and  sympathetic  and  of  late  each 
had  come  to  recognize  a  new  kind  of  self-consciousness  in 
the  other  whenever  they  met.  Each,  too,  had  asked  what 
it  meant,  but  neither  had  quite  found  any  acceptable  an 
swer.  It  was  Cooley  who  did  so  first,  and  he  acted  with 
characteristic  promptitude. 

One  June  evening  after  supper  with  his  men,  instead  of 
returning  to  the  field  to  finish  the  day 's  work,  as  he  gener 
ally  did,  he  walked  across  the  fields,  when  the  sun  was  set 
ting,  to  Selma's  cottage.  He  had  not  changed  his  working 
garb,  and  found  her  in  her  flower  garden.  He  had  never 
called  on  her  thus  before,  save  in  exigencies  where  his  pur 
pose  was  obvious  and  anticipated.  But  if  she  felt  some 
mild  surprise  and  curiosity  she  did  not  show  it. 

"I  have  come  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said,  as  they  sat  on  a 
rustic  seat  under  the  cherry  blossoms.  "We  have  cooper 
ated  with  and  understood  each  other  pretty  well  all  these 
years. ' '  Then  he  paused. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  calmly  enough,  but  not  without  a  faint 
flutter  of  anticipation. 

"We  have  come  to  know  each  other,  too,  pretty  well, 
haven't  we?" 

"Surely,"  she  said,  trl  think  we  may  say  that." 


170       EECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

"We  have  had  about  the  same  aims  and  have  never  had 
any  disagreements." 

"That  is  true,"  she  replied,  "except  about  the  school 
playgrounds,"  a  matter  where  their  views  had  been  at 
first  widely  divergent,  but  in  which  hers  had  finally  pre 
vailed. 

He  ignored  this.  "And  we  can  honestly  and  modestly 
admit  that  we  have  done  some  good  for  this  town. ' ' 

"I  am  sure  you  at  least  may  say  that,"  she  said. 

"Do  you  know,"  looking  her  fully  and  searchingly  in 
the  face,  * '  that  just  before  you  came  here  I  was  practically 
expelled  from  the  legislature  for  being  beastly  drunk  on 
the  floor  of  the  House?" 

"Oh,"  she  cried  in  great  distress,  "you  must  not  speak 
like  that.  It  is  too  horrible." 

*  *  That 's  just  what  it  was,  horrible.    So  you  have  heard  ? ' ' 

"Of  course,"  she  replied,  "I  heard  the  gossip  when  I 
first  came  here  and  I  half  believed  it  at  first  and  was  not 
anxious  to  know  you,  but  I  saw  long  ago  how  unjust  it  was, 
and  everybody  has  practically  forgotten  it." 

"No,  it  will  never  be  forgotten,  although  it  may  now  be 
pretty  well  silenced,  but  the  worst  you  have  heard  was 
probably  not  so  bad  as  the  truth.  But,"  he  went  on,  "I 
have  atoned  and  I  want  to  tell  you  what  will  probably 
strike  you  worst  of  all,  that  I  do  not  regret  it,  that  it  was 
the  best  thing  that  ever  happened  to  me.  It  showed  me 
what  the  world  was  and  how  bitter,  how  cruel.  It  showed 
me  the  bigotry  of  pious  Christians  and,  what  was  a  thou 
sand  times  more  precious  a  lesson,  it  taught  me  that  there 
were  recuperative  powers  within  the  soul  and  that  there  is 
no  salvation  save  that  which  a  man  achieves  for  and  in 
himself.  It  showed  me  that  we  must  live  in,  and  make  the 
best  of,  this  world,  and  that  if  we  cannot  achieve  Heaven 
here  we  never  can  do  so  elsewhere.  It  taught  me  what 
hypocrisy  is  and  what  a  smug  life  I  had  led.  But  for  that 


A  CONVERSION  171 

great  awakening  I  should  have  remained  as  I  was  to  the 
end.  That  experience  with  drunkenness,  disgracing  myself 
and  the  town  I  represented,  awakened  me,  for  in  a  sense 
I  had  been  asleep.  It  was  like  the  light  and  voice  Paul 
saw  and  heard  in  the  desert.  The  sanctimonious  thought 
that  when  I  came  home  and  had  to  leave  the  church  I 
was  entirely  beyond  the  pale,  and  I  almost  felt  at  times 
that  I  was  in  a  sense  converted  downward,  as  it  were 
'devilward'!  But  if  it  was  Satan's  doings,  I  am  now  his 
disciple. ' ' 

"No,  no,"  she  broke  in,  stopping  a  wave  of  eloquence 
that  had  surprised  them  both.  "You  shall  not  talk  like 
that.  You  overcame.  It  was  a  magnificent  fight  and  a 
magnificent  victory.  You  were  a  hero.  It  was  all  so  won 
derful,  more  so  than  I  have  ever  known,  heard  or  read  of. 
It  is  not  only  you  but  this  town  that  has  been  regenerated. 
It  is  not  the  devil,  but  the  spirit  of  the  Blessed  Christ  that 
has  possessed  you.  I  think  He  has  inspired  you  to  do  all 
that  has  been  done  in  this  town.  You  are  a  true  follower 
of  the  dear  Lord,  although  you  do  not  know  it. ' '  She  broke 
off  abruptly  and  her  face  flushed  as  she  felt  her  enthusi 
asm  had  found  too  frank  expression. 

"Well/'  he  said,  now  more  calmly  and  deliberately,  after 
a  long  pause,  * '  what  I  came  for  was  to  tell  you  that  I  have 
at  length  realized  that  far  more  of  my  good  work  than  I 
knew,  such  as  it  is,  has  been  inspired  by  you." 

"How  can  that  possibly  be?"  she  said,  with  genuine 
surprise  and  a  new  thrill. 

"Why,"  he  said,  "I  heard  all  about  your  leaving  your 
first  position,  and  how  bitter  and  personal  was  the  struggle 
which  culminated  in  your  dismissal.  I  was  encouraged  to 
see  how  splendidly  you  had  organized  victory  out  of  de 
feat." 

Again  she  flushed,  but  added,  "I  hoped  that  you  had  not 
heard  of  that,  but  I  knew  and  felt  that  we  had  something 


172       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

in  common.  In  a  sense  we  were  both  conquering  our  past, 
but  what  I  have  done  is  nothing  compared  with  your 
work." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "now  we  understand  each  other.  What 
is  the  next  step  ?  What  does  the  logic  of  events  point  to  ? 
What  have  we  yet  to  do?" 

"What?  "she  said. 

"We  must  marry,  or  else  the  whole  story  will  be  unfin 
ished." 

"Oh!"  she  cried. 

"We  are  both  beyond  the  callow,  gushy  age  of  romance, 
or  I  would  have  told  you  on  my  knees,  perhaps,  that  I  be 
lieve  I  have  long  loved  you,  although  I  have,  in  fact,  but 
lately  realized  it.  Do  you  want  me  to  kneel  and  tell  you  that 
I  cannot  live  without  you?  Indeed,  I  can  perhaps  hardly 
honestly  say  that.  You,  too,  do  not  need  me  for  support 
or  protection,  but  we  do  at  least  like  the  things  we  have 
done  together  and  stand  for.  We  are  both  mature  and 
sensible.  We  are  not  too  far  apart  in  age.  Our  temperaments 
fit.  We  might  or  might  not  have  children.  That  we  could 
naturally  better  decide  later.  The  school  could  now  dis 
pense  with  your  services,  unless  you  wish  to  continue  them 
in  such  ways  or  to  such  a  degree  as  you  can  make  compati 
ble  with  your  new  duties.  We  ought  to  make  a  new  home 
together  which  should  be  a  center  of  the  social  influences 
still  so  needed  in  this  community.  I  have  tentative  plans, 
for  a  new  house  which  you  shall  help  me  complete.  I  have 
thought  it  all  out  in  the  last  few  days.  It  doubtless  seems 
sudden  to  you  and  you  have  had  no  time  to  consider.  I  do 
not  expect  your  answer  now,  much  as  I  want  it.  You  will 
have  many  things  to  consider.  This  is  my  errand,  and  now 
it  is  done.  Good -by  until  I  have  your  answer."  He  ex 
tended  his  hand  as  he  rose  from  the  seat. 

"One  moment,"  she  said.  "I  like  your  manly  way  of 
asking  me.  I  respect  and  honor  you  far  more  than  any 


A  CONVERSION  173 

other  man  I  have  ever  known.  I  think  I  love  you,  but  I 
cannot  be  sure  just  now  what  I  ought  to  do.  You  know  it 
would  involve  a  very  great  change  for  me.  How  glad  I 
am  that  you  do  not  try  to  carry  my  heart  by  storm,  like 
the  hero  of  the  stage  or  the  novel.  Come  to-morrow  night 
for  your  answer. " 

They  parted  with  a  firm  and  somewhat  prolonged  hand 
clasp.  That  night  each  of  them  sat  late  under  the  trees  of 
his  and  her  yard,  and  each  retired  and  slept  soundly  and 
serenely,  and  on  the  morrow  both  went  to  their  work  out 
wardly  calm  but  inwardly  preoccupied  and  tense,  but  on 
the  whole  happy.  Almost  at  the  stroke  of  seven  he  ap 
peared,  this  time  in  his  best  suit,  when  she  met  him  in  her 
best  attire.  They  walked  to  the  seat  by  the  cherry  tree 
in  silence.  Before  they  sat  she  faced  him.  "Yes,"  was 
all  she  said. 

"I  hoped,  thought,  even  prayed  that  that  would  be  your 
answer,"  he  said,  and  pressed  her  yielding  form  to  his 
breast  with  one  long  fervent  kiss.  * '  And  now, ' '  he  said,  as 
they  sat  down,  "how  soon  can  it  be?" 

"Term  closes  next  week,"  she  said,  "and  then  I  can  be 
gin  preparations." 

"Why  not  the  next  day,  and  make  preparations  after 
ward  ? "  he  said  finally.  And  it  was  so  agreed. 

The  wedding  was  simple  and  at  twilight  under  her 
cherry  tree.  There  was  no  honeymoon  or  journey,  but 
after  receiving  congratulations  from  all,  for  half  the  town 
responded  to  the  general  invitation  to  all  that  wished  to 
attend,  they  retired  to  his  home. 

The  first  days  in  their  married  life  were  spent  in  contem 
plating  plans  for  his  new  home,  which  he  had  already 
projected  on  a  site  nearby,  and  a  year  later  it  was  com 
plete  and  a  house-warming  party  was  held,  and  the  old 
house  given  over  to  the  "help."  Flowers  were  planted 
and  shrubs  placed  in  abundance,  and  a  spacious  garden 


174       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  cultivated  behind  the  garage,  and  here  they  often  re 
ceived  their  friends. 

Some  years  have  passed,  and  as  we  ring  down  the  cur 
tain  we  see  here  often  at  play  a  boy  of  four  and  a  girl  of 
two  on  the  lawn.  Samuel  Cooley  was  a  born  symbolist, 
although  he  never  knew  it,  and  in  the  center  of  the  com 
plicated  arched  window  over  the  front  door  there  was  a 
design  in  colored  glass  of  a  big,  yellow  lemon.  ''Fate 
proved  how  a  lemon  could  "be  made  lemon-ade. ' '  It  was  a 
clumsy  pun,  and  the  only  one  he  ever  attempted.  The 
lesson  of  their  lives  had  been  that  there  is  a  redemptive 
power  in  the  depths  of  human  nature  in  all  of  us  that  can 
bring  the  best  results  out  of  the  direst  evil. 


IV 
PREESTABIISHED  HARMONY 

A  MIDSUMMEE  EEVEEY  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ONE  raw,  cold  day  in  January  just  before  nightfall,  Pro 
fessor  Hardipan,  of  Boston,  was  walking  slowly  and  ab 
stractedly  from  his  laboratory  to  his  lodgings,  nearly  a 
mile  distant.  He  was  a  somewhat  hard-headed,  positivistic 
man,  on  the  shady  side  of  forty-five,  who  had  already  won 
a  very  prominent  place  in  the  scientific  world.  He  was  a 
psychologist  of  the  empirical,  experimental  school,  inter 
ested  in  human  nature  generally,  and  especially  in  every 
thing  that  was  exceptional  and  out  of  the  way.  He  had 
frequented  prisons,  asylums  for  all  sorts  of  defectives,  was 
very  fond  of  studying  the  ways  of  animals,  somewhat  bluff 
in  his  manner  and  perhaps  a  trifle  crabbed  in  his  disposi 
tion.  He  was  an  incorrigible  old  bachelor,  a  member  of 
a  club  of  plain  speakers,  devoted  to  roasting  each  other, 
and  was  past  president  of  the  nil  admirari  club.  He  had 
long  ago  eschewed  society,  but  had  a  rather  strange  foible 
of  reading,  thinking,  and  speculating  about  marriage  and 
woman  in  general,  and  was  widely  read  in  all  sorts  of  sta 
tistical,  physiological  and  sociological  literature  bearing 
upon  the  subject.  His  friends  in  whose  presence  he  occa 
sionally  vented  his  views  about  doubling  man's  rights  and 
halving  his  duties  feared  he  was  almost  in  danger  of  be 
coming  a  woman-hater,  yet  he  was  at  bottom  a  good-hearted 
man,  a  fast  and  true  friend,  and  some  of  his  blunt  and 
outre  notions  were  thought  by  those  who  knew  him  best  to 
savor  of  affectation. 

175 


176       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

He  wore  a  heavy,  dark  fur  overcoat,  buttoned  with  loops, 
and  carried  under  one  arm  a  portfolio  of  charts  and  a  few 
books,  and  a  case  containing  a  physiological  instrument  in 
the  other  hand.  The  snow  was  very  deep  and  a  fresh 
storm  was  evidently  just  beginning,  and  where  the  snow 
had  not  blown  from  the  icy  sidewalk  it  crunched  under  foot 
with  a  dry,  crispy  noise,  the  cause  of  which  he  had  investi 
gated  in  a  special  memoir.  His  thoughts  were  busy,  quick 
ened  by  the  frosty,  gusty  air,  and  he  was  annoyed  at  the 
crowd  of  shopgirls  who  just  after  the  closing  hour  thronged 
the  streets  on  their  way  home.  He  finally  struck  out  into 
the  open  common  which  became  more  and  more  secluded 
the  farther  he  penetrated  it,  and  soon  found  himself  in  one 
of  the  narrow  and  unfrequented  walks  near  the  center  of 
it,  where  the  snow  had  been  shoveled  for  many  a  rod  into 
a  high  wall  on  either  side,  when  suddenly  he  became  aware 
of  a  lady  walking  rapidly  in  the  opposite  direction.  He 
observed  that  she  was  absorbed  in  a  revery  of  happy  mood 
for  she  seemed  in  the  dim  light  to  smile  to  herself,  quite 
unconscious  of  his  approach.  Just  at  that  point  the  snow, 
that  had  been  melted  in  the  sun  on  the  north  side,  had 
frozen  so  as  to  make  the  pathway  much  higher  upon  that 
than  upon  the  other  side.  He  was  not  a  gallant  man,  and 
with  his  head  bowed,  continued  doggedly  upon  the  lower 
side,  characteristically  slackening  his  pace  for  her  to  pass. 
This  she  would  have  done  readily  enough  had  not  the  ice 
upon  the  upper  side,  which  he  left  for  her,  been  as  smooth 
as  polished  glass,  so  that  she  slipped  suddenly  back  trans 
versely  to  his  side  of  the  path  so  close  in  front  of  him  that 
the  bobbing  feather  of  her  hat  actually  tickled  his  nose  and 
he  felt  her  warm  breath  for  an  instant  upon  his  cheek. 
Not  for  many  a  long  year  had  his  lips  been  so  near  a  girlish 
face.  As  she  stepped  quickly  back  he  observed  in  the  gath 
ering  night  that  she  was  fair,  fresh  and  young,  and  that 
she  was  blushing  crimson  at  the  awkward  accident. 


PREESTABLISHED  HARMONY  177 

Professor  Hardipan  had  been  brought  to  a  full  stop,  but 
with  characteristic  promptitude  and  a  natural  attempt  at 
gallantry  he  bravely  stepped  up  the  slippery  side  with  a 
sudden  spring  that  would  have  carried  him  safely  round 
her  where  she  stood,  so  that  each  could  have  gone  on  his 
way,  had  she  not  stepped  quickly  back  half  frightened  by 
his  sudden  spring.  Thus  it  came  about  that  as  he  glided 
down  to  the  lower  side  as  she  had  done  instead  of  having 
passed  her,  they  were  again  as  before,  face  to  face.  The 
books  under  his  arm  had  gently  touched  her  shoulder,  al 
most  like  a  good-natured  and  confidential  nudge  in  the 
ribs,  and  she  got  the  peculiar  odor  of  the  laboratory  that 
always  enveloped  his  person  like  an  aura  and  even  smelled 
the  cigars  in  his  vest  pocket,  that  for  an  instant  were  not 
six  inches  from  her  pretty  nose.  Had  not  her  muff  and 
the  professor 's  box  acted  as  a  buffer,  their  proximity  would 
have  been  still  closer. 

They  stood  thus  but  an  instant,  when  by  a  simultaneous 
and  natural  impulse  they  both  sprang  with  a  strong  impetus 
to  the  steep  side,  each  with  the  design  of  allowing  the  other 
to  pass  with  a  wide  berth  before  the  inevitable  slide.  So 
exactly  together  was  this  design  conceived  and  executed, 
however,  that  there  was  a  square  collision  at  the  top  and 
both  slid  slowly  down  four  feet  face  to  face  to  the  other 
side  again.  In  the  instinct  of  saving  herself  from  a  fall, 
she  automatically  clutched  at  the  portfolio  of  anatomical 
charts  under  his  arm,  which  fell  and  lay  open  at  their  feet 
at  an  introductory  cut  of  human  figures  facing  each  other. 
She  was  the  first  to  spring  away,  while  Professor  Hardipan, 
as  angry  as  so  petty  a  vexation  could  make  a  petulant 
and  tired  man,  ground  his  teeth  and  clenched  his  fist  as  he 
stooped  down  to  pick  up  his  charts.  Unfortunately,  how 
ever,  the  loop  of  his  fur  coat  had  caught  in  the  button  of 
her  jacket  and  her  recoil  had  been  so  sudden  that  the  pro 
fessor  was  literally  jerked  off  his  feet  and  fell  upon  his 


178       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

face  before  her.  Books,  cigars,  and  instruments  were  scat 
tered  by  his  side,  and  she  perforce  was  bending  over  him. 
This  tableau,  however,  was  ended  quickly,  for  she  stooped 
still  lower  (as  if  whispering  into  his  ear  as  he  afterward 
humorously  said)  to  relax  the  tension  of  half  his  weight 
about  her  neck  and  unbutton  the  sudden  attachment  be 
tween  them. 

She  might  easily  have  sprung  over  his  knees  and  gone  on 
her  placid  way  as  the  deep  and  rare  oath  of  rage,  whether 
at  himself,  or  her,  or  the  fates  that  were  thus  suddenly  and 
relentlessly  enmeshing  him  in  their  web,  no  doubt  prompted 
her  to  do.  Who  shall  tell  why  she  lingered  and  helped 
collect  his  scattered  luggage,  while  he  slowly  regained  his 
feet?  Why,  before  reencumbering  his  arms  with  his  par 
cels,  did  he  not  take  her  gently  by  the  shoulders  and  waltz 
her  around  in  half  a  circle  safely  to  the  other  side  of  him 
self  ?  Why  above  all  did  she  notice  the  scratch  upon  his 
nose  from  which  the  blood  was  trickling  and  ask,  in  the 
tenderest  inflections  that  ever  modulated  a  woman's  voice, 
if  he  was  hurt  ?  Why  did  he  reply  only  by  a  defiant  snort 
of  anger  and  thus  lay  up  food  for  future  remorse,  as  her 
sweet  tones  echoed  and  reechoed  afterward  in  the  deepest 
chambers  of  his  heart  ?  Why  did  no  one  come  along  ?  Why 
had  any  one  of  the  thousand  things  not  happened  so  that 
they  should  not  have  met  at  all  or  a  few  rods  sooner  or 
later?  If  any  of  these  things  had  been  otherwise,  the  story 
of  these  eventful  seconds  in  this  unromantic  spot,  where 
the  course  of  true  love,  it  was  afterwards  plain,  had  proved 
all  too  smooth,  would  have  ended  here. 

As  it  was,  however,  when  he  was  up  and  had  full  pos 
session  of  all  his  traps,  Professor  Hardipan  seemed  a  trifle 
mollified,  and  he  slightly — let  us  hope,  gracefully — inclined 
his  head  to  his  fair  vis-a-vis  as  he  was  about  to  step  lightly 
aside  for  her  to  pass.  But  once  more,  for  truth  is  incredi 
bly  stranger  than  fiction,  by  one  of  those  rare  concomitant 


PREESTABLISHED  HARMONY  179 

variations  we  often  experience  upon  the  street  or  sidewalk, 
where  it  is  impossible  always  to  turn  to  the  right,  she  cour 
teously  and  simultaneously  did  the  same.  Instantly  both 
dodged  back  now  but  half  the  width  of  the  narrow  walk, 
and  back  and  forth  they  went  several  times,  each  about  the 
same  distance  and  at  the  same  rate. 

It  was  a  clear  case  of  what  Leibnitz  called  preestab- 
lished  harmony  between  two  hujnan  beings.  No  two  pen 
dulums,  it  seemed  to  the  professor,  ever  swung  with  more 
perfect  uniformity,  and  he  declared  afterwards  that  the 
awful  thought  occurred  to  him  that  they  might,  if  breath 
and  muscle  had  been  unfailing,  have  gone  on  thus  till  morn 
ing.  Each  for  an  instant  suspected  the  other  of  design, 
but  as  they  paused  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  it 
was  evident  that  all  the  thoughts  and  energies  of  both  were 
now  bent  solely  and  intensely  upon  ending  this  most  em 
barrassing  encounter.  Each  threw  a  hasty  glance  behind 
as  if  with  the  thought  of  turning  round  and  giving  up  the 
pass,  but  as  they  faced  each  other  again  it  was  evident  that 
vexation  had  gradually  begun  to  give  place  to  another 
quaint,  if  somewhat  scientific  fancy,  in  the  breast  of  the 
professor.  It  flashed  across  him  that  this  must  be  a  case 
of  perfect  identity  of  the  personal  equation  which  he  had 
investigated  and  which  has  been  said  to  be  the  same  in  no 
two  human  beings.  Here  were  two  independent  human 
wills,  both  automatically  free,  yet  perfectly  constrained 
and  indeed  checkmated,  as  it  were,  by  the  other.  It  sug 
gested  to  his  psychological  mind  an  indefinite  perspective 
of  inner  harmonies,  which  might  be  the  other's  fate,  coun 
terpart,  or  what  you  will,  just  as  the  hypothetical  Brun- 
dusian  ass  if  "exactly"  between  the  two  bundles  of  hay 
would  surely  die  of  starvation.  Up  to  this  moment  at  least 
he  would  have  ridiculed  the  Platonic  legend  that  flitted 
through  his  mind  of  male  and  female  created  in  pairs  or 
rather  as  one  monadic  soul,  which  Jove  later  split  like  a 


180       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

sorb  apple  with  a  horse-hair,  and  which  malign  fate  had 
shuffled  with  other  halves  through  the  world.  Here  the 
halves  of  an  original  whole  were  brought  together  again  in 
their  rarest  affinity.  This  timid,  palpitating,  blushing,  yet 
courageous  creature  had  awakened  the  greatest  interest  he 
had  felt  toward  any  individual  in  all  her  species  these 
many  years.  His  fair  encounteress  appeared  to  be  the 
one  in  all  the  world  peculiarly  adapted  to  be  questioned, 
observed,  studied,  experimented  on  at  close  range.  She 
somehow  seemed  to  carry  a  key  essential  to  his  deeper  self- 
knowledge.  She  might  possibly  sometime  be  made  to  love 
him  beyond  the  dream  of  the  Patient  Griselda  herself, 
enough  even  if  he  required  her  to  submit  to  X-ray ;  but  no, 
such  a  thought  at  least  must  be  absolutely  forced  out  of 
his  mind.  Such,  at  any  rate,  is  a  tolerable  account  of  Pro 
fessor  Hardipan's  consciousness  at  the  end  of  the  first 
minute  after  he  first  saw  the  unknown  girl,  who  still  con 
fronted  him. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  it  was  with  something  like 
genuine  good  feeling  that  he  said  in  tones  more  bland  and 
apologetic  than  those  he  was  wont  to  listen  to  from  his 
own  lips,  the  simple  words,  * '  Please  excuse  me, "  as  he  was 
about  to  deposit  his  bundles  in  order,  we  suppose,  to  take 
her  hand  and  chasse  half  round.  Judge  then  of  his  utter 
astonishment  to  hear  at  the  same  time  the  same  words, 
" Please  excuse  me,"  from  her  lips  in  perfect  soprano  ac 
companiment,  not  only  of  tone  and  pitch  but  inflection  and 
cadence.  He  stood  erect  and  stared  into  her  face  in  dumb 
bewilderment.  If  his  own  shadow  on  the  ground  had  risen 
up,  or  his  own  image  in  the  mirror  had  stood  forth  and 
spoken  to  him,  it  would  have  seemed  no  less  a  miracle. 
Nay,  he  could  hardly  trust  his  senses.  It  must  be  a  dream 
or  hallucination,  a  mirage  and  entoptic  delusion,  a  ghost 
strayed  from  the  rooms  of  the  telepathic  society  or  con 
jured  up  by  some  mischievous  necromantic  agency  as  yet 


182       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ness  of  the  strange  adventure,  dispelling  all  other  feelings, 
and  both  broke  forth  into  laughter.  Lightly  and  cheerily 
it  rang  out  upon  the  frosty  air.  His  was  lighter  and  heart 
ier  than  his  friends  had  ever  heard,  but  hers  kept  both  time 
and  tone,  and  some  good  genius  prompted  him  to  say,  "It 
is  plain,  miss,  that  one  of  us  must  turn  back.  Will  you  go 
my  way  or  shall  I  go  yours?"  She  faltered  in  reply,  "I 
will  go  yours, ' '  and  turned  promptly  about.  The  spell  was 
broken,  but  a  far  more  lasting  spell  was  upon  his  heart. 

In  emerging  from  that  unfrequented  walk,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  south  side  of  the  park,  and  his  house  was 
just  across  the  way.  He  ventured  to  ask  her  to  allow  him  to 
attend  her  to  her  home,  after  leaving  his  books  and  instru 
ments  at  his  own  door.  To  this  she  modestly,  yet  with 
some  evident  embarrassment,  consented.  It  was  a  long 
walk,  but  we  will  not  prolong  the  story.  "Will  you  go 
my  way  for  life?"  he  said — and  they  married  a  few  months 
later. 

Professor  Hardipan,  though  by  no  means  a  model  hus 
band,  has  never  been  suspected  of  any  designs  of  experi 
menting  upon,  still  less  of  analyzing,  his  wife  in  the  cause 
of  science.  His  instincts  are  rather  of  an  opposite,  syn 
thetic  sort,  and  three  children  have  already  blessed  their 
union  as  I  write.1 

Mrs.  Hardipan 's  version  of  this  story  is  far  less  extraor 
dinary.  We  have  adhered  strictly  to  his.  Hardipan 's  mir 
acle  or  conversion,  as  it  was  called  by  his  cynical  friends 
in  the  club,  was  regarded  as  an  egoistic  semi-myth,  gradu- 

1  It  is  perhaps  worthy  of  remark  that  this  plain  tale  here  told,  with 
literal  and  kinetographic  truthfulness,  illustrates  how  severely  the  old 
classical  unities  of  time,  place,  and  action  may  be  adhered  to  with 
the  most  objective  conformity  to  facts;  viz.,  whole  time  of  action  ex 
actly  two  minutes;  place  or  space  of  action  6x4  feet;  action  itself 
except  the  fall,  an  admitted  defect,  a  pendular  svnus  vibration,  the 
simplest  of  all  dynamic  unities  on  a  plane  surface  of  two  dimensions. 
It  is  for  these  merits  chiefly  that  this  Btory  claims  a  unique  pre 
eminence  over  all  othera  ever  written, 


PEBBSTABLISHED  HARMONY  183 

ally  evolved  to  excuse  to  others  and  explain  to  himself  how 
it  was  that  such  a  man  as  he  came  to  fall  so  suddenly 
and  desperately  in  love.  Gossips  of  the  other  sex  have 
whispered  that  it  was  a  coquettish  woman's  trick  to  catch 
the  attention  of  an  eligible,  rough  diamond  of  a  bachelor. 
Some  have  declared  it  was  a  wager  and  that  Jeanette  Moore 
had  even  boasted  beforehand  how  she  would  do  something 
like  the  above.  Others  more  friendly  have  declared  it  was 
in  a  spirit  of  pure,  unpremeditated,  girlish  frolicsomeness 
that  she  dared  to  balk  a  bearish  don,  simply  because  it 
happened  to  come  into  her  head  to  do  so,  on  the  street, 
where  his  face  was  well  known.  For  ourselves,  we  have 
no  theory  about  the  matter,  but  are  sure  that  no  man  can 
be  happier  than  the  professor,  and  we  see  no  reason  why, 
were  he  not  a  scientific  man  and  a  free  thinker,  he  ought 
not  to  thank  God  daily  that  he  has  become,  as  in  the  strange 
providence  of  love  every  bachelor  may,  a  married  man. 


OETTHTG  3SOLRBIED  IN  GERMA1TY 

MARY  and  I  had  been  engaged  nearly  a  year  and  a  half, 
so  that  our  story  begins  where  most  others  end.  We  had 
both  been  in  Europe  several  years:  I  had  been  working 
for  my  degree  at  Berlin  and  Heidelberg,  and  she  had 
been  living  quietly  with  her  mother  at  Munich,  Florence, 
and  finally  at  Dresden,  studying  the  languages,  and  paint 
ing  a  little  in  water-colors.  Mary  thought  it  would  be  nice 
to  be  married  in  Paris,  but  there  were  rumors  of  so  many 
formalities  and  possible  delays  that  we  had  given  it  up 
and  agreed  that  Germany  should  be  the  favored  land ;  and, 
as  each  of  us  chanced  to  have  either  friends  or  relatives  in 
Berlin,  it  was  decided  that  that  should  be  the  place,  and 
that  June  should  be  the  happy  month.  "Let  it  be  the 
first/'  I  had  pleaded,  and  she  had  consented.  We  planned 
to  go  quietly  in  the  morning  to  some  little  church,  or  to 
some  clergyman's  study,  and  afterwards,  perhaps,  to  ask 
our  friends  to  a  lunch  or  breakfast  in  a  private  parlor  in 
some  hotel — such  as  I  had  once  been  invited  to  by  a  friendly 
Decent  in  the  university,  who  married  on  an  income  of 
five  hundred  dollars  a  year. 

One  lovely  morning  early  in  May,  two  weeks  before  my 
final  examination,  I  received  a  letter  from  Mary  saying  she 
had  heard  that  I  could  not  possibly  be  married  without  a 
passport.  Her  friend,  Miss  Allen,  had  a  cousin  whose 
chum,  an  American,  had  been  married  in  Germany,  two 
years  before,  to  a  German  lady,  and  it  had  first  to  be  done 
at  a  common  police  office,  she  wrote,  and  there  a  passport 

184 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          185 

was  required.  Now  Mary  knew  that  I  had  criminally 
evaded  the  German  law,  and  this  was  the  way  it  came 
about:  Before  I  had  been  settled  two  days  in  Berlin  my 
kind-hearted  landlady  took  occasion  to  explain  to  me  that 
I  must  be  announced  at  the  police  office,  and  that  there  a 
passport  would  be  demanded  within  ten  days.  A  passport 
would  cost  twenty-eight  marks,  she  informed  me,  at  the 
office  of  the  American  legation;  and  if  I  cared  to  save 
money,  and  would  give  her  ten  marks,  she  would  risk  the 
penalty  (as  she  had  done  before  for  my  countrymen,  for 
whom  she  had  a  great  liking) ,  and  not  announce  me  at  all, 
and  I  could  remain  unmolested  and  unrecorded  as  long  as 
I  wished.  I  had  paltered  with  the  temptation,  and  finally, 
with  the  aid  of  an  extemporized  theory  about  the  relations 
of  natural  and  legal  justice,  villainously  capitulated,  and 
saved  eighteen  marks. 

Here  seemed,  at  first  sight,  a  dilemma  which  was  not  to 
be  evaded  without  a  plump  lie.  If  I  obtained  and  pre 
sented  a  passport  now,  I  should  be  asked  how  long  I  had 
been  in  the  city,  and  if  it  were  more  than  two  weeks  I 
might  possibly  be  ordered  to  leave  for  violating  the  city 
ordinances,  as  an  unfortunate  acquaintance  of  mine  had 
been  six  months  before.  My  landlady  would  certainly  be 
heavily  fined  for  not  announcing  me,  and  possibly,  if  her 
other  delinquencies  in  that  line  should  come  to  light,  she 
might  be  also  deprived  of  her  pension  license.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  declared  that  I  had  just  arrived,  my  answers 
to  the  long  cross-questioning  to  which  I  was  liable  to  be 
subjected  at  the  bureau  might  excite  surprise,  and  a  single 
inquiry  at  the  post-office  or  of  the  letter-carrier  would  be 
sure  to  involve  us  both  in  far  deeper  complications.  I 
promptly  remembered  the  Trinkgeld  I  had  so  long  for 
gotten  to  give  the  postman,  and  sought  counsel  of  my  land 
lady.  She  at  first  seemed  quite  dismayed  at  the  situation, 


186       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

but  at  length  reminded  me  that  a  few  days  before  I  had 
made  a  trip  to  Potsdam. 

"Give  me  your  passport,"  she  said,  "and  remember, 
you  arrived  in  Berlin  last  Tuesday  evening. "  Precisely 
what  she  did  with  it,  or  told  the  police,  my  conscience  never 
let  me  inquire;  but  a  few  days  later  I  was  summoned  to 
the  police  office,  where,  in  answer  to  many  interrogations, 
I  explained  that  I  had  been  in  the  city  something  more 
thart  a  week;  did  not  know  precisely  how  long  I  might 
stay,  but  would  give  information  when  I  decided;  that  I 
was  there  to  study,  and  what ;  that  when  I  did  leave  I  might 
go  home,  and  might  travel,  and  where;  and  at  last  left 
with  a  light  heart,  feeling  that  my  answers  had  been  so 
transparent  that  if  there  had  been  any  suspicion  that  I 
meditated  another  attempt  upon  the  venerable  Kaiser's  life 
it  had  been  effectually  allayed.  The  next  morning  I  was 
waked  at  daybreak  by  a  call  from  a  magnificent  police  offi 
cer,  who  politely  explained  that  the  bureau  had  some  trou 
ble  in  deciphering  the  middle  name  of  my  honored  Frct^ 
mother.  Foreign  names  were  sometimes  very  hard,  he 
added.  I  wrote  it  out  (in  my  role  de  wwt,  upon  the  back 
of  my  visiting-card  in  the  steadiest  hand  I  could  command 
— Cymantha),  and  handed  it  to  him  in  the  corridor  through 
the  peep-hole  in  the  door.  He  apologized  again,  saluted, 
retired,  and  came  no  more.  A  week  later  my  passport  was 
returned  with  a  number  of  official  stamps  upon  it.  I 
carried  it  thenceforth  always  with  me,  as  we  never  fail  to 
carry  our  legitimation  cards  after  matriculation,  feeling 
that  in  the  big  green  seal  of  the  legation  and  the  fair  round 
hand  of  our  ambassador  I  possessed  not  only  a  sort  of  war- 
rant  of  citizenship  in  two  countries,  but  a  key  to  the  ady 
tum  of  Hymen's  temple. 

My  examination  was  now  to  occur  in  a  week.  I  had  paid 
my  preliminary  fee,  almost  finished  my  thesis,  and  was 
cramming  at  my  very  best  pace  with  a  team  of  three  other 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          187 

Bepetent&n.  Still  I  had  found  time  to  order  my  wedding 
suit  and  get  the  bridal  ring,  with  June  1st  and  my  initials 
engraved  on  it,  and  one  morning  I  ran  into  the  house  of  our 
American  clergyman,  long  resident  in  Berlin,  to  ask  him 
to  perform  the  ceremony.  What  was  my  consternation  to 
be  told  that  the  laws  of  Germany  would  not  allow  him 
to  marry  us! 

' '  But, ' '  I  pleaded, ' '  we  are  Americans.  It  might  be  done 
quietly,  and  the  authorities  here  need  not  know  it.  I  am 
sure  it  is  none  of  their  business/' 

"There  is  a  new  international  arrangement — I  don't 
know  precisely  what;  but  I  am  positive  it  would  not  be 
safe  for  either  of  us  to  attempt  it,"  he  said. 

I  retired,  meditating  that  the  reverend  gentleman  had 
no  fine  feeling  for  the  delicacy  of  a  situation  like  ours,  to 
say  the  least. 

After  losing  several  hours,  now  very  precious  for  study, 
in  puzzling  over  the  matter,  I  resolved  to  call  upon  our 
ambassador  himself.  Ill  though  he  was,  he  received  me 
very  kindly. 

"Are  American  citizens  ever  married  in  this  office ?"  I 
inquired. 

"It  has  been  done  once  only,  I  think,  under  one  of  my 
predecessors;  but  there  were  some  very  exceptional  rea 
sons/' 

"Well  and  good;  that  is  my  case.  Can  you  marry  me 
here  next  Wednesday?'1 

"The  lady  is  not  ill,  I  hope?" 

"Not  in  the  least." 

"Then  your  best  way  is  to  go  to  England.  If  you 
choose  the  simplest  form,  and  are  married  by  an  independ 
ent  clergyman,  it  is  necessary  only  that  one  of  the  parties 
should  reside  there  two  weeks  before  the  ceremony  can  be 
performed. " 

"But  that  is  really  impossible  in  this  case,"  I  replied. 


188       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

"My — Miss — that  is,  the  lady  is  rather  High  Church,  and  I 
have  an  examination  just  ahead.  Besides,  we  have  made 
att  the  arrangements  for  here  and  the  first  of  June/' 

"I  think  I  may  say  you  will  find  that  out  of  the  ques 
tion." 

"Then  you  refuse — you  really  cannot  do  it?"  I  asked, 
with  a  strange,  unsteady  feeling  about  the  corners  of  my 
mouth.  "Is  not  this  office  construed  by  international  law 
as  American  soil?"  I  added,  bringing  out  the  grand  stra 
tegic  point  of  all  my  morning's  meditation. 

"So  far  from  it  under  the  new  arrangement,  if  it  were 
done  here  and  knowledge  of  the  fact  should  come  to  the 
ears  of  the  authorities,  not  only  should  I  myself  be  seri 
ously  compromised  for  ignorant  or  willful  violation  of  the 
laws  I  am  here  to  see  observed,  but  the  officiating  clergy 
man  would  be  arrested  at  the  door,  and  the  marriage  would 
be  declared  void,  even  in  an  American  court,  and  even 
though  the  case  be  first  tested  years  hence.  A  marriage 
must  now  be  valid  according  to  the  laws  of  the  place  where 
it  is  celebrated,  or  it  is  null  and  void,"  he  explained. 

I  made  an  ill-disguised  attempt  to  smother  something  in 
my  throat,  and  I  am  ashamed  to  say  I  retired  awkwardly, 
abruptly,  ungratefully.  What  a  fool  I  had  been  not  to 
learn  this  before;  and  Mary  would,  of  course,  think  so, 
too,  however  much  I  might  plead  intense  preoccupation 
with  my  studies !  It  could  never  be  concealed,  and  it  would 
be  a  joke  which  my  acquaintances  would  never  forget.  Be 
sides,  her  dresses  were  probably  all  ordered  or  ready,  and 
everything  would  be  out  of  fashion,  perhaps,  long  before 
the  German  authorities — whom  I  knew  to  be  very  fussy 
about  such  matters — would  let  us  get  married.  Mary's 
father  had  left  his  driving  business  for  six  weeks  to  see 
the  ceremony,  and  was  now  upon  the  sea,  and  I  knew  must 
go  back  with  his  wife  in  July.  My  old  chum,  Will  Murrey, 
who  had  been  spending  the  winter  in  Italy,  was  to  be  in 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY 

Berlin  in  time  to  act  "best  man"  for  me  so  far  as  was 
needful,  and  I  knew  Mary  had  asked  Miss  Punto  to  sustain 
her  in  whatever  sense  might  be  needful  during  the  cere 
mony.  Besides,  early  June  was  the  best  time,  so  everybody 
said,  to  start  on  a  trip  through  the  provinces  along  the 
Danube,  where  I  had  planned  to  make  our  wedding  tour. 

It  was  in  no  very  happy  frame  of  mind  that  I  sat  down 
that  night  to  write  the  result  of  my  day's  investigation  to 
Mary.  What  I  wrote  I  no  longer  remember,  nor  will  she 
aid  me  to  do  so.  It  must  have  been,  to  say  the  least,  queer, 
for  when  I  pressed  her  afterwards  to  let  me  see  that  letter 
she  seemed  very  serious,  and  confessed  at  last  that  she  had 
made  a  note  on  the  margin  of  it  which  she  did  not  wish  me 
to  see,  but  kindly  searched  the  letter  out  and  burned  it 
before  my  eyes. 

I  waited  nearly  two  days  for  an  answer,  during  which  I 
was,  of  course,  in  no  mood  for  work.  After  all,  she  wrote, 
it  was  perhaps  just  as  well.  She  would  prefer  to  wait 
rather  than  to  go  to  England,  unless  her  father  should  very 
strongly  urge  it.  It  would  be  nice  and  funny,  as  well  as 
probably  very  impressive,  to  take  the  Lutheran  forms,  she 
thought,  and  ended  by  exhorting  me  not  to  let  trifles  like 
that  interfere  with  needful  preparation  for  my  degree,  be 
cause  when  she  did  marry  me  she  had  her  heart  set  on 
being  a  Frau  Doktor. 

This  time  I  was  bound  to  make  sure  work,  and  so,  with 
the  best  information  I  could  procure,  started  off  for  the 
civil  bureau  (Standes  Amt)  to  ascertain  precisely  what  was 
required. 

"Upon  what  business  do  you  come?"  demanded  the  pom 
pous  servant  at  the  door. 

"I  am  an  American  citizen,  and  want  to  know  how  to 
get  married  in  Germany,"  I  faltered. 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  main  office  and  shouted,  "Ein 
Herr  Amerikaner  wishes  to  marry  himself!"  and  then 


190       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

showed  me  into  a  large  and  well-filled  waiting-room  to 
take  my  turn,  every  occupant  of  which  gazed  fixedly  at 
'me  without  winking  for  some  minutes.  One  thin,  dark, 
wiry  man,  in  soiled  linen,  and  bright  yellow  kid  gloves,  had 
dropped  in  to  announce  the  death  of  his  third  wife.  A 
trembling  young  mother  was  sharply  reprimanded  for  let 
ting  the  legal  third  day  pass  before  announcing  the  death 
of  her  child.  A  somewhat  seedy  clerk  had  come,  with  a 
radiant  face,  to  announce  the  birth  of  a  boy  fourteen  hours 
old,  and  to  be  called  Johannes  Conrade  Hermann  Degener- 
meister.  A  servant-girl  and  her  lover  were  waiting  in  one 
corner — she  red  and  giggling,  he  erect,  dignified  and  taci 
turn  as  a  head-waiter — to  be  made  man  and  wife.  I  had 
plenty  of  time  to  observe,  for  nearly  an  hour  passed  before 
my  turn  came.  At  length  I  was  shown  into  a  long  room, 
with  half  a  dozen  clerks  at  one  end,  who  twisted  their  necks, 
adjusted  their  glasses,  and  gazed  and  listened  with  open- 
mouthed  wonder. 

1 '  I  wish  to  get  married  in  the  very  simplest  and  quickest 
way,"  I  said,  presenting  my  passport.  "Will  you  please 
tell  me  how  to  do  it?" 

"It  is  extremely  simple,"  said  the  officer.  "We  must 
have  a  certificate  of  your  birth  (Geburtssckein)  signed  by 
the  burgomaster  of  the  town  in  which  you  were  born,  and 
with  its  seal,  and  witnessed  in  due  form.  Your  certificate 
of  baptism  (TafofscJi&in)  should  also  be  sent,  to  guard 
against  all  error,  sealed  and  witnessed  by  the  present  pastor 
or  the  proper  church  officers.  These  must  be  presented 
here  by  each  of  the  contracting  parties,  with  their  pass 
ports,  as  the  first  step." 

I  carefully  noted  this,  and  he  proceeded : 

"The  parents,  if  living,  should  certify  to  their  knowledge 
and  approval  of  the  marriage.  We  must  also  be  satisfied 
that  there  is  no  obstacle,  legal,  moral,  or  otherwise,  to  it; 
whether  either  of  you  have  been  married  before,  and  if  so 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          191 

whether  there  are  children,  and  if  so  their  names  and  ages. 
The  parents'  names  should  be  in  full;  also  their  residence, 
occupation,  age,  and  place  of  birth  should,  of  course,  be 
given  for  record  here." 

I  begged  for  another  scrap  of  paper  and  made  further 
notes. 

"When  we  have  these  here  in  this  desk,"  he  continued, 
patting  fondly  that  piece  of  furniture,  "then  either  we 
can  publish  the  bans  (Aufgebot)  by  posting  a  notice  of 
your  intention  in  the  Rathhaus  for  fourteen  days,  or  else 
you  can  have  it  printed  in  the  journal  of  the  place  where 
you  reside  in  America,  and  bring  us  a  copy  here  as  evi 
dence  that  it  has  actually  appeared.  After  the  expiration 
of  this  time  you  can  be  married  in  this  office." 

"Must  it  be  here?"  I  queried. 

"Of  course,"  he  said.  "This  is  the  only  place  which 
the  law  now  recognizes.  Poor  people  are  content  with  civil 
marriage  only,  but  all  who  move  in  good  society  go  from 
here  to  the  church  for  a  religious  ceremony." 

"Is  it  not  possible  to  shorten  the  time?"  I  timidly  ven 
tured  to  inquire.  "We  had  made  all  the  arrangements  for 
an  earlier  day,  and  are  seriously  incommoded  by  the  delay. 
I  did  not  know  the  requirements.  It  takes  four  weeks  to 

hear  from  America,  and  then  two  weeks  more,  here,  and 

You  do  not,  perhaps,  exactly  understand,  and  yet  I  hardly 
know  how  to  explain.  But  there  is  really  haste.  We  are 
pressed  for  time." 

"Haste?  Pressed  for  time?"  he  repeated.  "Perhaps  I 
do  not  understand.  I  am  sorry,  but  it  cannot  possibly  be 
sooner.  You  think  we  are  slow  in  Germany.  True,  but  we 
are  sure.  We  require  our  people  to  take  time  to  think  over 
the  matter  beforehand,  and  divorce  with  us  is  far  from 
being  the  easy  matter  I  have  heard  it  is  in  America. ' ' 

I  was  in  no  mood  for  opening  a  discussion  of  the  statutes 
of  Indiana,  and  so  demurely  withdrew,  feeling  that  it  was 


RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

no  use  to  try  to  wriggle  into  matrimony  through  such  mazy 
meshes  of  red  tape,  and  that  Mary  would,  of  course,  now 
consent  to  England.  This  was  naturally  implied  through 
out  the  letter  I  dispatched  that  evening.  But  I  was  mis 
taken.  She  "could  not  think  of  England  for  a  moment 
now.  It  would  be  so  interesting  in  Berlin/ '  she  wrote.  We 
could  be  very  comfortable  for  six  weeks.  The  middle  of 
July  was  not  very  late,  aftjer  all,  in  that  latitude.  I  must 
write  at  once  the  details  of  the  requirements,  and  she  would 
send  for  her  papers.  I  complied,  and  sat  down  to  write 
for  mine. 

Now  I  happened  to  be  born  in  a  little,  remote  Western 
hamlet,  where  I  did  not  at  present  know  a  soul,  nor  in  all 
probability  did  my  parents.  How  to  get  the  certificate  of 
my  birth,  or,  in  other  words,  to  prove  at  the  civil  bureau 
that  I  had  been  really  and  legally  born,  was  no  trivial  mat 
ter.  I  finally  addressed  a  detailed  and  courteous  letter  to 
the  mayor  of  Hornersville,  begging  him  to  have  the  fact 
and  date  of  my  birth  from  the  town  sent  me,  witnessed  and 
over  the  town  seal;  and  in  order  to  inclose  two  dollars  in 
United  States  postage-stamps,  I  ran  at  random  into  the 
nearest  bank.  I  was  counting  out  my  German  money,  and 
the  first  clerk  had  gone  to  the  back  office  for  the  stamps, 
when  the  brisk  junior  principal  stepped  up  and  asked  me 
if  my  head  was  in  any  way  diseased.  I  thanked  him  heart 
ily,  but  not  without  some  surprise,  and  assured  him  that 
it  had  never  been  better.  ' ' Because, ' '  he  continued,  "it  is 
customary  in  our  country  to  remove  the  hat  in  all  offices 
of  this  importance. ' '  I  doffed  it  instantly,  and  begged  par 
don,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  before  I  thought;  and,  although  I 
had  been  taught  the  same  lesson  once  before  in  a  little 
shoe-store,  regretted  passionately  half  the  way  home  that 
I  had  not  thoroughly  wrung  his  impertinent  nose,  in  honor 
of  the  American  eagle. 

I  next  passed  to  the  consideration  of  the  baptismal  ques- 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          193 

tion,  the  precise  relations  of  which,  to  the  natal  problem  I 
have  not  been  able  to  this  day  precisely  to  understand. 
The  least  forgery  or  evasion  was,  of  course,  not  to  be 
thought  of,  however  justifiable  in  a  moral  point  of  view  1 
might  deem  it  under  the  cruel  circumstances,  because  that 
would  make  the  marriage  itself  null  and  void.  This  I 
clearly  inferred  from  my  interview  at  the  civil  bureau. 
Moreover,  no  certificate  whatever  could  have  the  least  value 
unless  it  was  stamped  with  an  official  seal ;  and,  again,  every 
error  would  necessitate  an  additional  delay  of  four  weeks; 
and,  lastly,  it  was  better  to  do  too  much  than  too  little. 
These  ground  categories,  I  reflected,  must  never  be  lost 
sight  of. 

Now  the  fact  was  I 'had  never  been  baptized.  My  father, 
although  a  good  church  member,  entertained,  twenty  years 
ago,  some  rather  independent  views  on  the  question  of  in 
fant  baptism,  and  so,  despite  my  mother's  wishes,  the  mat 
ter  lingered  until  I  was  too  big.  In  Germany,  where  every 
boy  baby  must  be  either  baptized  or  circumcised,  I  was  a 
monster,  for  whom  her  law  made  no  provision.  Mary's 
parents  held  no  latltudinarian  scruples,  and  she  had  been 
baptized  thoroughly  as  an  infant,  and  again  later  by  im 
mersion.  Why  had  no  one  hinte'd  to  me,  when  I  left  home, 
that  it  might  be  convenient  to  take  a  Taufschein  along 
with  my  passport! 

After  instituting  inquiries,  I  ascertained  that,  among 
several  other  obstacles,  I  was  now  too  old  to  be  baptized  in 
Germany,  and  that  an  English  baptism  would  not  help  me. 
I  could  not  think  of  leaving  my  examination  and  crossing 
the  ocean  to  be  sprinkled  in  the  normal  way.  Only  one 
thing  remained,  -namely,  to  get  my  parents'  pastor  and 
parish  clerk  to  certify  amply  and  strongly,  under  oath  and 
seal  and  before  witnesses,  that,  although  duly  born,  I  had 
never  been  duly  baptized,  and  that  such  omissions,  unfor 
tunately,  were  not  infrequent  in  the  United  States,  and 


194       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

were  attended  there  by  no  civil  or  temporal  disabilities. 
In  my  letter  I  begged  my  parents  to  send  a  certificate  of 
their  consent  to  my  marriage,  giving  them  a  favorable  de 
scription  of  Mary,  enclosing  her  photograph,  and  gently 
hinting  at  the  end  that  if  they  withheld  their  approval  it 
would  simply  necessitate  our  running  over  to  England. 
Another  letter  to  my  uncle,  who  happened  to  be  a  district 
judge,  begging  him  to  certify  that  I  had  never  been  married 
before,  and  that,  according  to  his  and  my  families'  best 
knowledge  and  belief,  there  was  no  obstacle,  "legal,  moral, 
or  otherwise,"  to  my  marriage  with  Miss  Mary  Adelaide 
Prout,  of  New  York,  seemed  to  me  to  complete  the  busi 
ness.  Yet,  no:  it  would  be  best  to  have  the  bans  printed 
in  our  little  home  pap^r,  strange  as  it  would  look  there, 
and'have  a  copy — or  better  two,  in  case  a  steamer  should 
be  sunk  at  sea — sent  me.  That  might  save  two  weeks,.  And 
again,  it  might  be  well  to  copy  all  these  letters,  and  send 
a  duplicate  of  each  a' week  later,  to  make  assurance  doubly 
sure.  If  there  should  be  any  additional  delay  by  error, 
there  would  be  some  consolation  in  having  the  fault  on 
Mary's  side,  I  reflected.  I  now  had  thirty-six  hours  for 
cramming  before  my  examination,  and  at  it  I  went. 

Here  were  the  lecture  notes  of  five  semesters  and  two 
small  shelves  of  text-books  which  ought  to  be  reviewed. 
As  the  case  seemed  desperate,  I  resolved  to  concentrate  my 
self  on  anatomy  and  chemistry,  where  I  was  weakest,  and 
risk  the  seven  other  ample  sciences  which  a  doctor  is  re 
quired  to  know.  Two  of  my  examiners  were  aware  that  I 
had  been  a  diligent  student,  and  I  would  get  a  certain 
good  friend  of  mine  to  call  on  another  of  them  and  hint 
that  I  had  been  distracted  by  family  troubles,  and  per 
haps,  in  case  of  need,  they  would  advocate  tempering  jus 
tice  with  mercy,  and  letting  me  through  easily,  as  it  is  said 
is  often  done  with  American  students.  I  worked  well  all 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          195 

day  and  till  about  one  o'clock  at  night,  and  then  fell  asleep, 
over  the  group  of  peptones. 

At  nine  in  the  morning,  while  I  was  taking  my  coffee,  a 
letter  came  from  Mary,  requesting  more  detailed  directions 
for  ordering  her  papers,  and  when  it  was  answered  I 
realized  that  I  was  in  a  mood  which  made  study  impossible. 
I  took  a  bath  and  ran  into  the  gymnasium,  but  was  no  bet 
ter;  drank  a  glass  of  beer,  and  read  the  American  papers 
at  the  bank,  but  grew  worse;  then  started  off  for  a  long 
walk  in  the  Thiergarten,  and  came  back  only  in  time  to 
make  my  toilet  for  the  dread  ordeal.  In  evening  dress,  I 
was  ushered  into  a  long  room  and  seated  at  one  end,  while 
my  examiners  were  discussing  a  comfortable  spread  at  the 
other — paid  for,  I  knew,  out  of  the  two  hundred  thalers 
I  had  given  for  being  admitted  to  examination.  Of  the' 
three  hours  of  mental  anguish  I  here  endured  I  will  attempt 
no  description.  I  was  passed  from  one  inquisitor  to  an 
other,  and  at  last,  after  waiting  ten  minutes  in  an  ante 
room,  recalled  to  learn  that,  notwithstanding  the  excellence 
of  my  theme,  and  my  diligence,  good  conduct,  etc.,  my  * '  oral 
examination  had  not  been  in  all  respects  entirely  satisfac 
tory  ";  and  I  was  advised  to  take  advantage  of  the  new 
regulations,  and  present  myself  again  as  a  Repetent  in  the 
autumn. 

I  retired,  scarcely  knowing  what  I  did,  and  walked  bare 
headed  in  the  cool  night  air  a  couple  of  hours,  overwhelmed 
with  shame,  wondering  over  and  over  again  what  Mary, 
what  my  parents  and  friends,  would  think  of  me;  and  at 
last  returned,  jaded  and  haggard,  designing  to  slip  into 
my  room  unobserved  and  seek  the  oblivion  of  sleep.  What 
should  I  find,  however,  on  opening  my  door,  but  my  hostess 
and  several  frjends  festively  drinking  wine  around  my 
table,  on  which  was  a  magnificent  piece  of  confectionery 
like  a  skeleton  Gothic  tower.  It  had  turrets  and  minarets 
and  festoons,  and  was  wreathed  in  flowers,  and  a  ginger- 


196       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

snap  banner  high  above  all  was  done  off  on  one  side  in 
stripes  and  stars  with  red,  white,  and  blue  candy-work, 
and  on  the  other  side  stood  Herr  Doktor  above  my  initials. 
Herr  Studiosus  Ottfried  "Wilhelm  Griesebach,  my  best  Ger 
man  friend,  sprang  tip  and  hugged  and  kissed  me  in  spite 
of  myself,  and  the  congratulations  of  the  others  were  so 
loud  and  given  with  such  beery  impetuosity  that  it  was 
some  time  before  I  could  make  -them  comprehend  the  awful 
truth  that  I  had  " fallen  through."  They  were  really  si 
lenced  then  for  an  instant,  during  which  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  my  hostess,  with  real  delicacy  of  feeling,  stealth 
ily  breaking  off  the  candied,  doctored  ginger-snap  banner 
and  slipping  it  slyly  into  her  pocket. 

It  was  but  for  an  instant,  however,  and  it  was  Herr 
Griesebach,  to  my  surprise,  who  first  attempted  to  meet 
what  he  considered  the  demands  of  the  occasion.  Springing 
again  to  his  feet,  and,  I  actually  believe,  brushing  away  a 
tear,  he  thumped  upon  the  table,  and  cried  Silentia!  in 
true  convivial  German-student  style,  though  it  was  just 
then  as  still  as  the  grave. 

" Honored  Herren,"  he  began  glibly  enough,  "love  and 
science  are  jealous  rivals,  but  thrice,  four  times  happy 
the  man  who  is  favored  by  either.  Our  dear  friend  was 
going  to  become  a  doctor  one  week  and  wed  a  beautiful 
girl  the  next." 

"The  bride  lebe  hock!"  shouted  one  of  my  visitors,  and 
all  rose,  clinked  their  glasses,  and  drank  deeply,  nodding 
and  smiling  to  me.  "The  gods  were  envious  and  in  their 
councils  it  was  ordained  that  instead  of  completing  a  four 
years*  course  of  medicine  then,  as  he  intended,  he  should 
pause  for  a  short  course  on  the  German  marriage  law.  In 
hid  native  land" — "Americans  leben  hock!"  was  shouted 
and  drunk  to  as  before — ' '  they  say,  I  have  heard,  that  time 
is  money."  [These  words  in  English — all  he  knew,  I  be 
lieve  ;  but  he  graciously  repeated  them  soito  voce  in  German, 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          197 

with  a  benevolent  glance  at  my  hostess.]  "Well,"  slowly 
shrugging  his  shoulders  and  raising  his  eyebrows,  "our 
friend's  faculty  has  given  him  four  months'  time,"  lay 
ing  his  forefinger  aside  his  nose  at  the  word  "four,"  and 
tapping  it  again  at  the  word  "time."  This  was  execrable 
and  exasperating  enough,  it  will  be  confessed,  and  I  sup 
pose  that  my  face  fell  still  more  and  that  my  convivial 
friend  noticed  it;  at  any  rate,  tie  stepped  to  my  side, 
grasped  and  wrung  my  hand,  and  added  in  changed  and 
almost  tender  accents,  * '  I  have  been  in  the  university  eight 
years.  My  head  is  mossy  enough,  but  of  the  many  American 
students  I  have  known  our  friend  is  the  only  one  with  true 
German  Gemitth;  and  before  I  say  dixi  I  propose  that  we 
rub  a  vigorous  salamander  to  the  Herr  Brautigam.  Let 
him  live  high,  high,  high ! "  he  cried,  raising  his  glass  and 
drinking  long  and  deep,  as  did  the  rest,  after  which  all 
rattled  their  glasses  noisily  at  his  command  till  he  gave 
the  usual  signal  for  silence,  and  then  sat  down. 

He  had  done  his  awkward  best,  and  so  did  all  the  rest 
in  more  informal  words  of  consolation,  but  it  was  of  no  use. 
It  only  revealed  to  me  how  great  and  lifelong  in  German 
eyes  was  the  disaster  which  had  overtaken  me. 

When  they  had  gone  I  sank  back  in  my  chair  (a  rocking- 
chair,  by  the  way,  which  I  had  got  made  only  with  infinite 
pains,  after  satisfying  myself  that  I  could  not  obtain  one 
otherwise  in  all  the  city ;  indeed,  it  was  the  only  one  I  ever 
saw  in  all  Germany),  and  tried  to  think  things  over  calmly 
and  gather  courage;  but  the  longer  I  sat  the  more  com 
pletely  unmanned  I  became.  I  could  think  of  nothing,  in 
fact,  but  the  words,  "I  have  failed!  I  have  failed!"  kept 
repeating  themselves  in  my  mind  over  and  over  again,  like 
the  inexpugnable,  "Punch,  brothers,  punch  with  care," 
etc.,  which  Mark  Twain  has  described.  I  sat  theTe  for 
hours,  benumbed,  in  a  sort  of  oriental  trance.  I  had  no 
wish,  no  strength  even,  to  go  to  bed,  though  I  knew  dream- 


198       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ily  that  my  condition  was  morbid.  I  remember  thinking,  on 
the  whole,  rather  favorably  of  the  project  of  going  back 
to  the  Thiergarten  and  shooting  myself,  as  an  American 
student  had  done  in  the  autumn  before — without  a  quar 
ter  of  my  provocation,  I  was  sure.  But  that  would  require 
too  much  effort.  Many  other  absurd  things  flitted  through 
my  mind,  while  the  day  dawned  and  the  sunshine  stole  in  at 
my  feet.  I  wished  for  half  an  hour  that  the  window  of 
my  room  was  open;  I  knew  the  air  was  not  the  best,  but 
I  could  not  summon  the  resolution  to  get  up  and  open  it. 
At  length  I  was  roused  by  the  knock  and  entrance  of  my 
hostess,  who  informed  me  that  my  usual  breakfast  hour 
was  considerably  passed.  I  ate  mechanically,  and  came 
back  to  my  chair  in  a  room  with  freshened  atmosphere,  and 
slowly  began  to  realize  that  I  was  suffering  from  a  nervous 
reaction  which  might  become  indefinitely  serious.  I  will 
not  here  pause  to  go  into  professional  details.  Suffice  it 
to  say  that,  following  the  best  medical  advice,  it  was  several 
weeks  before  I  at  all  recovered  my  health  and  spirits. 

During  the  first  few  days  I  had  been  too  listless  to  do 
more  than  glance  over  Mary's  letters  as  they  came,  and 
deferred  answering  them,  always  only  for  an  hour  or  two 
at  a  time,  till  at  length,  on  the  fourth  day,  becoming  really 
alarmed  at  hearing  nothing  from  me,  she  had  come  on  to 
Berlin  with  her  mo'ther,  and  surprised  me  at  dinner.  She 
seemed  to  understand  the  situation  at  once;  found  out — 
Heaven  knows  how — the  regimen  that  had  been  prescribed 
for  me,  and  kept  me  up  to  it.  She  got  me  out  on  long 
walks,  astonished  me  by  her  own  endurance  as  my  com 
panion,  and  did  her  best  to  amuse  and  keep  me  cheerful. 
It  must  have  been  a  dreary  task,  for  I  was  so  blase  to 
every  intellectual  interest,  so  indifferent  to  every  enthusi 
asm,  or  even  to  my  own  future,  that  only  true  love  could 
have  made  my  companionship  endurable.  And  yet  she 
brought  me  slowly  out  of  my  trouble  back  again  to  life. 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          199 

Four  weeks  had  meanwhile  elapsed.  Mary's  father  had 
come  and  returned  alone  without  her  mother,  and  I  began 
to  hear  from  my  home  letters.  First  came  my  parents' 
consent  to  my  marriage  to  Miss  Prout,  drawn  up  in  stately 
and  formal  terms  -  for  iny  father  was  a  country  squire,  and 
knew  something  about  how  a  legal  period  should  be  stuffed. 
At  the  bottom  of  thfs  my  sister  had  roguishly  imprinted 
the  motto  of  her  class  in  the  seminary,  of  which,  as  secre 
tary  that  year,  she  chanced  to  have  the  metallic  stamp.  It 
was  a  Greek  translation  of  the  phrase,  "I  will  find  a  way 
or  make  one."  It  was  as  big  as  an  English  penny,  and 
with  a  bit  of  red  ribbon  affixed  looked  so  imposingly  official 
that  I  thought  it  best  to  let  it  stand;  and  good  service  it 
did  me  in  the  end. 

My  uncle,  the  judge,  promptly  declared  that  to  the  best 
of  his  knowledge  there  was  no  obstacle  to  my  marriage, 
and  affixed  the  stamp  of  the  county  to  his  certificate  that  I 
had  never  been  married  before. 

Then  came  the  baptismal  paper,  and  a  most  lame  and 
beggarly  document  it  was.  First  came  the  statement  of 
the  pastor.  He  had  good-heartedly  taken  it  upon  himself 
to  instruct  the  German  government  all  too  elaborately  that, 
much  as  it  was  regretted,  it  was,  nevertheless,  a  fact  that 
scarcely  one-half  of  the  native-born  Americans  were  nowa 
days  baptized,  as  the  ceremony  was  not  here  required  by 
law.  After  some  expatiation  upon  this  point,  he  graciously 
added  that  he  had  always  seen  much  to  commend  in  the 
German  practice  in  the  matter.  His  declaration  was  ac 
companied  by  my  father's  apologetic  statement  of  his  ear 
lier  scruples  about  infant  baptism.  From  my  letter  and 
inclosure  to  the  mayor  of  Hornersville  I  have  never  heard 
to  this  day.  I  had,  however,  anticipated  this  possibility, 
and  as,  fortunately  for  me,  all  four  of  my  grandparents 
were  living,  asked  them  to  certify  to  the  dates  of  my  par 
ents'  marriage  and  of  my  birth.  This  they  did,  and  as 


200       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

the  town  where  they  resided  possessed  no  stamp  or  seal,  the 
town  clerk  good-naturedly  pasted  round  pieces  of  green 
paper  and  a  few  inches  of  red  ribbon  at  the  bottom  of  each 
declaration.  These  documents,  making  with  my  passport 
seven  in  all,  were  carefully  laid  aside.  "Within  a  week 
Mary  had  the  same  number  of  papers,  and,  without  stop 
ping  to  examine  them,  I  made  them  into  a  formidable 
budget,  and  again  visited  the  civil  bureau,  only  to  learn 
that  they  must  all  be  officially  translated,  and  that  each 
paper  must  bear  the  two-dollar  stamp  of  the  American 
legation  in  witness  of  the  accuracy  of  the  translation.  As 
the  office  was  then  quite  full  of  business,  five  or  six  days 
elapsed  before  this  was  accomplished.  Upon  returning  to 
the  German  bureau,  carrying  now  twenty-eight  documents 
instead  of  fourteen  (some  of  which,  however,  proved  even 
tually  to  be  useless  or  superfluous) ,  it  was  promptly  found 
that  Mary's  papers  certified  to  her  two  baptisms,  but  failed 
to  make  out  that  there  was  no  legal  or  pecuniary  obstacle 
to  her  marriage.  I  had  heard  of  the  tedious  litigations 
about  inheritances  which,  under  the  former  laxer  laws,  had 
grown  out  of  carelessness  about  this  point,  but  suppose^ 
Mary's  mother,  who  had  remained  with  her,  could  satisfy 
the  authorities  upon  that  point.  Therefore  I  waited  in 
silence  for  my  own  papers  to  be  examined,  hoping  that  if 
my  irregular  baptismal  certificate  was  challenged,  Mary's 
supererogatory  baptism  might  be  somehow  vicariously  cred 
ited  to  me.  Mine,  however,  was  accepted,  but  nothing 
which  Mary's  mother  could  do  or  say  was  sufficient  to  sat 
isfy  the  German  law  that  I  might  not  be  capturing  an  Heir 
ess  by  methods  which  it  deems  inadmissible.  There  was, 
therefore,  no  way  but  for  Mary  to  cable  her  father  in  New 
York,  ''Certify  consent  and  no  pecuniary  obstacle  to  mar 
riage,"  and  for  us  to  wait  two  weeks  more  for  the  docu 
ments.  A  delay  of  another  fortnight  was  needful  for  the 
bans,  or  Aufgebot.  Mary  herself  began  to  be  impatient. 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          201 

It  was  August,  and  the  heat  was  intense;  all  our  friends 
had  left  the  city,  and  both  my  best  man,  Will  Murrey,  and 
Mary's  friend,  Miss  Punto,  had  returned  to  America,  and 
were  eventually  married  before  we  were.  The  dresses  were 
getting  out  of  season  and  out  of  fashion,  and  it  was  too 
late  to  travel  anywhere  but  in  Russia,  Sweden,  or  Scotland, 
and  we  were  not  as  enthusiastic  about  any  of  those  countries 
as  we  had  been  about  the  Danube. 

But  the  day  long  sighed  for,  long  delayed,  came  at  last. 
As  IT  had  to  be  my  own  best  man,  and  attend  to  all  the 
thousand  and  one  little  unexpected  jobs  that  turned  up,  I 
had  hired  a  faithful  man-servant  for  a  week,  to  whom  I 
entrusted  the  arrangements  at  the  church,  the  preparation 
of  the  spread,  the  care  about  carriages,  getting  off  the  bag 
gage,  etc.  Before  I  escaped  in  the  morning,  the  house  por- 
fer,  three  servants,  the  washer-woman,  coal  man,  two  serv 
ants  from  the  laboratory,  and  a  tailoress  called — most  of 
them  in  their  best  attire,  and  several  bringing  flowers  or 
bouquets — to  give  me  their  parting  Gluckwunsch,  expressed 
in  all  the  pretty  phrases  for  such  occasions  in  which  the 
German  language  abounds.  They  were  all  moderately  feed, 
but  were  happy.  Some  of  them  almost  wept — so  I  fancied 
— as  I  drove  off  with  Johann  mounted  beside  the  driver. 
Mary  was  ready,  and  with  a  half  dozen  friends  we  were 
soon  in  the  little  back  parlor  of  the  civil  bureau.  Here 
again  was  a  long  delay.  One  of  the  two  witnesses  required 
by  German  law  was  six  months  too  young,  and  not  one  of 
our  friends  had  the  requisite  papers  of  legitimation  with 
them  to  take  her  place.  One  of  the  latter  was  personally 
known  to  the  officiating  squire,  and  another  was  the  wife 
of  a  well-known  public  man,  but  this  was  not  "regular." 
Even  my  servant  had  no  "paper  with  a  stamp"  about  him, 
and  none  of  the  idlers  in  the  office,  who  are  sometimes  called 
in  for  a  shilling  in  such  emergencies,  was  any  more  fortu 
nate.  One  of  Mary's  friends  became  indignant,  and  be- 


202       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

gan  a  caustic  history  of  our  vexatious  delays  in  broken 
German  to  the  officer,  until  at  length  he  turned  his  back 
upon  her,  tore  off  his  swallow-tail  coat,  which  had  been 
donned  for  the  ceremony,  put  on  an  inky  gown,  and  re 
tired  to  his  desk,  leaving  us  to  find  a  way  out  of  the  fuss 
as  best  we  could.  None  of  the  party  lived  nearer  than  two 
miles  away,  but  luckily  one  of  them  remembered  a  lady 
acquaintance  upon  the  next  street,  and  went  forth  to  find 
her.  Although  she  was  ill,  she  rose,  dressed,  took  her  pa 
pers,  and  drove  to  our  rescue.  The  marriage  service  was 
rather  long,  and  under  other  circumstances  might  have 
been  impressive.  When  it  was  done  we  signed  our  names, 
I  took  a  few  more  papers  for  use  at  the  church,  tipped  four 
bobbing  ushers  who  had  opened  four  doors  for  us,  left  or 
ders  for  a  marriage  certificate — which  is  not  necessary  in 
Germany,  but  which  we  thought  might  be  interesting  to 
our  friends  at  home — and  got  into  the  carriage. 

"Mary,"  I  said,  "we  are  really  and  truly  married  al 
ready,  and  let's  cut  the  church.  It  is  an  hour  and  a  half 
late ;  our  friends  will  all  have  been  tired  waiting  and  have 
gone  home.  Besides,  I  have  stood  about  enough  of  this.  I 
have  kept  patient  during  two  months  of  this  rigmarole,  but 
I  am  afraid  a  reaction  is  coming,  and  that  I  shall  knock 
the  minister  down." 

She  replied  only  by  pressing  my  arm  more  closely  with 
her  own  as  we  stopped  at  the  church  door.  A  carpet  was 
laid,  and  the  organ  struck  up  as  we  were  ushered  up  the 
main  aisle  and  seated  in  front  of  the  altar  in  velvet-cush 
ioned  chairs.  The  clergyman  had  become  tired  waiting  for 
us  and  had  gone  home  to  lunch,  and  we  sat  there  ten  min 
utes  until  he  came  in,  out  of  breath,  in  a  black  robe  and 
skull-cap.  The  length  of  this  service  depends  somewhat 
upon  the  fee  which  he  expects,  and  we  found  it  very  long. 
To  me,  at  least,  it  was  not  particularly  solemn.  He  whis 
pered  to  us  in  broken  English  what  responses  to  make,  and 


GETTING  MARRIED  IN  GERMANY          203 

where  to  kneel,  stand,  join  hands,  etc.,  as  if  he  feared  we 
did  not  understand  German.  When  it  was  all  over  there 
were  extra  fees :  one  for  the  fine  chairs  we  sat  in,  one  for 
opening  the  church,  another  for  the  carpet  on  the  side 
walk,  and  one  each  for  the  organist  and  bellows-boy.  We 
were  invited  at  the  door  to  buy  photographs  of  the  church 
and  clergyman,  and  his  pamphlet  discourses,  and  a  printed 
copy  of  the  Lutheran  marriage  service.  We  did  so,  and 
drove  off  to  our  spread.  The  thing  was  done  at  last. 

Here,  too,  my  story  ends.  It  is  my  first,  and  will  be  the 
last  I  ever  write.  Marriage  ceremonies  and  preliminaries 
were  never  made  so  complex,  it  is  said,  as  the  civil  mar 
riage  law — the  compulsory  clause  of  which  was  repealed, 
I  believe,  last  spring — made  it  in  Germany  for  foreigners; 
and  therefore  only  the  eight  or  ten  American  couples  who 
passed  the  same  ordeal  during_its  full  operation  are  as 
thoroughly  married  as  we. 


VI 
A  MAN'S  ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES 

A  STALWART  young  college  professor,  a  friend  of  mine, 
lately  spent  the  summer  vacation  at  his  home  trying  to 
write  a  book  on  industrial  education  for  girls,  a  work  not 
yet  published.  For  exercise,  tiring  of  his  wheel,  chest 
weights  and  dumbbells,  and  stupid  solitary  walks,  and 
wishing  to  use  his  strength  practically,  he  lately  did  a 
week's  washing  for  his  family  of  six  under  the  direction 
of  his  laundress,  and  to  her  mingled  amazement  and  amuse 
ment.  He  tells  me  he  never  learned  more,  or  more  rapidly, 
in  the  same  time,  and  that  neither  in  the  gymnasium,  on 
the  tennis  court,  nor  on  the  golf  links  did  he  ever  get  quite 
such  varied  or  hygienic  exercise. 

In  the  splendid  freedom  of  a  collarless,  cuffless,  un 
starched  shirt,  an  old  pair  of  discarded  and  unsoilable 
pants  held  up  by  a  belt,  in  low  slippers,  he  went  about  the 
day  before  with  a  large  washbag  gathering  sheets,  towels, 
handkerchiefs,  skirts,  napkins,  under-  and  night-clothes, 
from  nursery,  bathroom,  bedrooms,  and  closets,  that  the 
preliminary  mending  might  be  done.  He  applied  salt  and 
lemon  juice  to  rust  stains,  a  special  acid  to  ink  spots,  and 
other  things  in  bottles  for  grass,  berry,  and  other  stains; 
he  rubbed  lard  on  the  greasy  places,  and  soft-soaped  some 
of  the  most  dirty  spots  and  things.  He  put  everything  to 
soak  in  three  set,  stone  tubs  in  the  basement  washroom, 
keeping  the  white  and  cleaner  things  by  themselves;  and 
he  also  sawed,  split,  and  laid  kindling  under  the  big  copper 
cauldron  by  the  tubs. 

204 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES      205 

After  ransacking  the  college  library  and  worrying  its 
chief  for  literature  on  the  subject  of  laundries,  only  to 
find  that  no  one  had  ever  put  together  all  that  needed  to 
be  known,  he  resolved  to  assign  it  as  a  master's  thesis  to 
the  next  girl  graduate  who  consulted  him.  But  he  has 
suggested  it  to  one  only;  she  told  him  plainly  that  she 
came  to  college  to  get  away  from  such  things,  and  seemed 
grieved  and  almost  affronted  lest  it  imply  he  thought  her 
incapable  of  a  loftier  career  and  theme.  He  told  her  that 
one  of  the  best  commencement  parts  he  had  ever  seen  was 
at  the  well-known  Oread  cooking  school,  where  a  girl  in  a 
mortar-board  hat,  but  with  bare  arms,  washed  one  shirt 
waist  and  ironed  another  before  an  audience,  telling  them 
at  the  same  time  what  she  did  and  how  and  why.  It  was 
all  in  vain,  for  to  this  the  young  lady  replied  that  she  was 
not  seeking  a  diploma  as  a  washerwoman,  and  would  die 
before  she  would  do  such  a  thing  in  public,  and  so  would 
all  the  rest.  So  that  settled  it. 

Next  morning  when  the  college  chimes  rang  six  he  was 
already  at  his  work,  with  the  enjoyable  sensation  of  bare 
feet  a  la  Kneipp,  and  sleeves  up  to  his  shoulders. 

He  ensconced  his  laundress  in  a  wicker  chair  in  a  cool 
corner,  near  an  open  window,  to  direct.  They  both  agreed 
that  Chinamen  who  sprinkled  clothes  with  water  from 
their  mouths  were  filthy,  and  that  the  steam  laundry,  which 
used  acids  and  tore  off  buttons  with  machinery,  even  if  it 
did  make  things  whiter,  was  not  suitable  for  real  Vere  de 
Vere  families  or  for  climbers  who  would  be  true  top- 
notchers.  She  gave  him  nuggets  of  information  in  a  rich 
brogue  about  soaps,  a  kind  of  lecture  so  meaty  that  he 
wished  to  stop  on  the  spot  and  note  points. 

From  the  anatomical  laboratory  my  friend  had  procured 
a  pair  of  rubber  gloves  used  in  dissections,  but  soon  dis 
carded  them.  First,  he  gently  punched  and  prodded  the 
soaking  mass  in  the  tub  containing  the  cleanest  white 


206       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

things,  soaping  and  wringing  a  little  till  his  inspectress 
was  satisfied,  and  transferring  everything  into  the  already 
bubbling  cauldron.  In  the  next  tub  it  was  dirtier.  To  get 
down  to  first  principles,  he  had  discarded  washing  ma 
chines  and  wringers  and  went  to  work  on  the  washboard, 
an  imitation  of  which  has  been  cleverly  smuggled  into  the 
list  of  gymnasium  apparatus  under  the  imposing  and 
euphonious  classic  name  of  sthenico-dynamo-generator,  or 
chest  strengthener.  This  he  found  an  ideal  apparatus  for 
the  pectoral  muscles  and  for  those  of  the  back  and  shoul 
ders,  combining  some  of  the  best  movements  of  rowing, 
parallel  bars,  and  sawing  wood.  Here,  indeed,  he  felt  he 
had  found  an  athletic  bonanza.  In  wringing  there  were 
half  a  dozen  exercises,  always  on  the  principles  of  opposi 
tion  of  the  two  forearms,  and  all  a  distinct  improvement 
upon  the  hand-wrist-twist-weight-lifter  of  the  gymnasium. 

The  clotheslines  of  white  cotton,  which  had  been  taken 
in  weekly  and  kept  in  a  bag,  were  strung  on  trees  over  his 
hedge-protected  back  yard.  Unlike  wires  they  were  in- 
-capable  of  staining.  After  carrying  his  first  tubful,  weigh 
ing  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven  pounds,  up  the  steps  and 
some  eighty  feet,  he  stretched  each  garment  out  symmetri 
cally — not  without  soiling  a  few,  however,  which  had  to  go 
back — hanging  white  garments  in  the  sun  and  colored  ones 
in  the  shade,  fastening  each  in  place  with  a  basket  of 
wooden  pins,  which  he  had  learned  meanwhile  could  be 
bought  at  ten  cents  for  six  dozen. 

Now  the  trophies  of  his  toil  swung  like  banners  in  the 
glorious  wind  and  sun.  Thus  he  persisted,  keeping  woolen 
garments  in  successive  waters  of  a  cool  and  constant  tem 
perature  to  avoid  shrinking,  boiling  the  linen  and  cotton 
with  a  tablespoonful  of  kerosene,  a  little  bluing,  and  just  a 
pinch  of  sal  soda. 

After  three  hours,  during  which  he  snatched  a  hasty 
breakfast,  his  work  was  done — soon  after  nine  o'clock — 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES       207 

and  he  had  himself  photographed,  standing  before  the 
drapery  he  had  cleansed,  proud  as  a  huntsman  beside  his 
first  bear,  or  a  fisherman  with  his  best  catch.  At  nine- 
thirty  A.  M.  he  had  taken  a  cold  bath,  re-dressed,  and  was 
at  his  desk  with  a  clear  head,  an  exuberant  sense  of  well- 
being  and  of  having  done  something,  and  a  bit  touched 
with  conceit,  leaving  to  his  mentor  the  more  unheroic  task 
of  bringing  in  the  wash  when  it  was  dry. 

To  be  sure,  his  knuckles  were  a  trifle  raw  and  sore  and, 
athlete  though  he  was,  his  forequarters  were  a  little  tired. 
But  he  had  tasted  all  the  gamy  flavor  of  camping  out  with 
out  a  hot  and  dusty  journey  to  get  there  and  back.  He 
almost — but  not  quite — resolved  that  henceforth  he  would 
always  do  the  wash,  and  not  throw  away  so  wholesome  and 
inspiring  an  opportunity  for  physical  culture  to  be  enjoyed 
by  paid  servants.  Now  at  least  no  washerwoman's  union 
could  boycott  him.  The  servant  may  have  dimly  felt  his 
thoughts,  for  as  the  task  went  on  she  passed  from  volubility 
to  taciturnity  and  glumness,  possibly  fearing  that  she 
would  suffer  from  future  economy  and  retrenchment. 
However,  the  first  act  of  the  drama  was  successfully  ended. 

I  wanted  to  print  the  photograph  of  my  friend  as 
he  stood  six  feet  one,  weight  one  ninety-eight  plus  before 
and  one  ninety-seven  minus  afterwards,  deducting  his 
breakfast  which  he  was  methodical  enough  to  weigh.  His 
modesty,  however,  forbids  me.  "Were  he  the  first  woman  in 
the  land,  he  declared,  he  would  have  been  proud  to  let  it 
appear.  He  marveled  that  there  were  no  young  ladies 
perhaps  just  from  the  high  school,  or  normal  school,  or 
college  who  would  set  the  world  a  new  fashion,  and  won 
dered  whether  they  were  all  too  coy  and  shy  of  the  many 
Calebs  in  search  of  a  wife  who  would  chortle  with  joy  and 
fall  at  their  feet  if  they  had  shown  this  proclivity  for  the 
domestic  life. 

To  think  of  it  seriously,  why  this  horror  of  washing, 


208       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

especially  when  many  society  ladies  confess  to  me  con 
fidentially  that  they  do  it  and  love  it  in  a  small  way — 
privately !  Schuyten  found  in  a  comprehensive  census  just 
published  that  less  than  two  and  one-half  per  cent,  of  the 
girl  students  in  the  teens  had  ever  wished  or  planned  to 
devote  themselve's  even  to  domestic  life  in  general,  although 
seventy-five  per  cent,  were  proposing  teaching  or  other 
culture  careers,  and  a  great  majority  of  them  would  prob 
ably  sometime  marry — so  little  does  our  educational  system 
fit  young  women  for  their  destiny!  How  many  of  them 
to-day  ever  did  or  could  do  a  good  washing,  or  have  either 
the  brain,  muscle,  or  endurance  for  it? 

Tuesday,  again  at  six  A.  M.,  my  friend  was  in  the  laundry 
cleaning  and  firing  the  stove,  and  getting  out  and  polishing 
the  flatirons,  and  preparing  three  qualities  of  starch. 
There  was  no  mangle  or  roller  and  all  was  by  hand.  In 
ironing,  however,  he  had  to  be  shown  as  well  as  told  by  his 
teacher,  for  this  was  skilled  labor  and  of  a  very  different 
order.  But  he  was  patient  and  docile  and  learned  to  avoid 
tearing  off  buttons,  ripping  openwork,  making  holes  with 
the  point  of  his  tool,  scorching,  etc.,  and  got  a  few  points 
about  ironing  in  creases  and  folds,  to  tow  up  well  into 
plaiting,  not  to  rip  delicate  tissues,  how  to  use  different 
irons  in  relays  and  to  tell  when  each  was  too  hot  or  cold. 
At  nine  o'clock,  leaving  most  of  the  hardest  things  to  his 
expert,  he  arrayed  himself  in  the  things  he  had  ironed 
himself,  even  a  bosom,  collar,  and  cuffs,  and  was  photo 
graphed  again  with  his  pile  of  garments  beside  him,  which 
he  then  distributed,  to  their  places. 

Mending  he  did  not  undertake  yet.  His  courage  was  still 
triumphant,  but  the  heat  and  the  mental  and  nervous  strain 
had  told  upon  him,  and  some  of  his  fundamental  ideas 
about  woman  and  her  work  were  a  little  joggled.  He 
became  conscious  of  a  silent  sense  of  superiority  on  the 
part  of  his  employee  toward  him,  and  wondered  if  hence- 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES      209 

forth  it  might  be  harder  for  her  to  feel  all  the  respect  due 
to  the  head  of  the  house.  Several  burns  distracted  his 
attention  from  his  study,  although  he  had  learned  and 
applied  some  valuable  recipes  new  to  him  which  might 
come  in  handy  in  other  circumstances. 

His  six-year-old  girl  complained  at  dinner  that  the  collar 
of  her  white  dress  scratched  her  neck  and  was  as  stiff  as  a 
board,  and  the  precious  pocket  in  her  apron  would  not 
open,  and  he  noticed  that  his  own  collar  was  a  little  limp 
and  spotted,  which  required  him  to  change  it  later.  His 
thirteen-year-old  girl,  in  the  fluffy-ruffles  stage,  seemed 
conscious  throughout  the  evening  of  something  wrong 
about  the  one  garment  of  hers  he  had  attempted,  but  his 
devoted  wife  never  let  him  know  that  some  of  his  chef- 
d'reuvres  had  to  be  starched  and  ironed  over  again.  She 
tactfully  answered  his  inquiries  during  the  week,  whenever 
he  saw  one  of  his  own  bits  of  handiwork  in  use,  that  all 
was  well,  that  even  the  clean  napkins  did  not  open  too 
hard,  and  that  it  was  all  the  style  now  to  have  them  so 
stiff  and  pasteboardy  that  they  would  stay  put  and  almost 
stand  on  end. 

What  puzzled  him  most  of  all  was  how  the  laundress, 
who  had  never  read  a  book  or  an  article,  and  never  took  a 
lesson,  learned  to  do  all  these  things,  for  the  effects  of 
never-printed  tradition  and  long  practice  were  hardest  of 
all  for  this  professor  of  books  to  appreciate.  He  ransacked 
his  library  in  vain  to  find  any  trace  of  the  evolutionary 
history  of  this  art,  or  to  learn  the  how,  when,  and  where  of 
the  development  of  the  instruments  and  the  skill.  How 
accomplishments  like  ironing  could  have  developed  in  the 
race  and  been  transmitted  for  countless  generations  with 
out  any  of  the  adventitious  aid  of  print,  was  to  him  a 
marvel.  Here  he  feared  he  must  leave  a  great  gap  in  his 
book  on  household  arts  and  education. 

Wednesday  was  cleaning  day,  and  he  started  off  feeling 


210       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

quite  himself  again.  First  lie  took  all  the  rugs  from  the 
library  to  the  yard  and  beat  them  well  and  long,  learning 
to  stand  on  the  windward  side.  This,  together  with  rolling 
and  unrolling  and  carrying  them,  he  found  capital  exercise, 
as  was  taking  the  furniture  out  into  the  hall.  Sweeping, 
too,  was  dead  easy,  but  going  over  the  floor  on  hands  and 
knees  with  a  wet  rag  set  back  the  shoulders,  brought  out 
the  chest,  strengthened  the  cuculares,  complexus,  biventer, 
and  erectores  trunci,  and  many  other  muscles.  Almost 
nothing  woman  does  or  can  do,  he  declared,  could  be  quite 
so  hygienic,  although  going  over  every  part  of  a  chair  with 
a  dust  rag  requires  so  many  positions  that  it  is  a  close 
second  to  floor  scrubbing  in  hygienic  value. 

Dusting  the  mantel  and  bric-a-brac  and  handling  all  the 
books  was  careful,  puttering  work,  and  in  doing  this  he 
had  several  lessons  in  the  delicacy  and  deftness  of  manipu 
lation  required,  and  also  a  lesson  in  charity  to  servants 
who  have  accidents  with  ornaments.  He  also  learned  much 
of  sequences  as  well  as  of  patience,  and  even  to  marvel  at 
the  acuteness  of  perception  of  his  wife,  now  his  overseer, 
as  she  detected  spots  of  dust  which  he  had  left  not  only  in 
the  crevices  but  in  the  openest  spaces.  Furniture  and 
picture  frames,  he  declared,  should  always  be  plain,  with 
no  groovings  or  flutings;  every  floor  corner  should  be 
beveled ;  there  was  no  use  in  having  so  many  useless  things 
about  for  mere  ornament ;  windows  should  never  be  opened 
to  let  in  dust;  decorated  china  and  everything  repousse 
and  in  relief  should  be  eschewed ;  and  books  should  be  kept 
behind  glass  cases  with  rubber-fringed,  dust-tight  doors, 
with  flaps  at  every  keyhole. 

When  he  asked  his  wife  to  mark  the  grade  of  his  excel 
lence  in  this  morning's  work,  she  gravely  said  that  there 
were  three  demerits  for  breakages,  that  he  deserved  about 
forty-five  for  dusting,  seventy-five  for  wet-ragging  the  floor, 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES    211 

pointing  out  his  defects,  and  one  hundred  plus  for  rug- 
beating  and  handling. 

This  ended  the  third  lesson  with  many  new  types  of 
physical  culture  of '  hoth  fundamental  and  accessory 
muscles,  and  new  knowledge  and  viewpoint  of  women's 
work  and  ways  which  he  had  seen  from  the  outside  before, 
but  never  till  now  felt  or  appreciated.  He  wondered  if  he 
ought  not  to  advocate  in  his  book  that  all  intending  hus 
bands  should  be  required  by  law  to  take_  the  course  he  was 
now  giving  himself  before  they  embarked  on  the  sea  of 
matrimony,  a  consideration  that  probably  will  be  amplified 
in  his  volume  in  a  way  that  I  think  will  command  the 
thoughtful  attention  of  housewives  who  may  read  it.  He 
fancied  that  marital  ties  would  be  cemented  if  the  lords  of 
creation  acquired  such  intelligent  sympathy  and  apprecia 
tion  of  their  wife's  responsibilities  as  this  experience  would 
insure. 

After  these  experiences  my  friend  felt  an  inspiration  to 
take  a  vacation  the  rest  of  the  week,  and  the  next  week 
his  wife  and  children  spent  with  her  parents,  leaving  him 
alone  with  the  servants.  Monday  morning  he  resolved  to 
give  a  stag  dinner  to  eleven  of  his  friends,  to  some  of 
whom  he  had  long  felt  under  obligations. ,  He  also  wished 
to  feel  that  he  could  do  it  alone  en  regie.  So,  after  a  care 
ful  inspection  of  pantry,  ice  box,  and  cellar  to  note  the 
supply  already  on  hand,  and  having  timidly  broached  his 
purpose  to  the  cook,  studying  from  several  cook  books  what 
courses  ne  wanted,  he  sallied  forth  to  the  market. 

Clams  on  the  half -shell  with  lemons  and  ice  were  easily 
provided  for;  so  was  soup,  with  vermicelli  and  rice,  a 
favorite  of  his.  For  fish,  he  wished  his  guests  to  have  each 
a  good  brook  trout,  but  found  it  closed  season,  with  a 
stringent  law  well  on.  The  fishmonger  told  him  confi 
dentially,  however,  that  there  was  a  way  of  providing  them 
at  about  twice  the  usual  cost,  and  so  he  culpably  com- 


212       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

pounded  with  crime  and  ordered  them.  A  crown  roast  of 
lamb  with  peas  gave  little  trouble;  but,  in  providing  the 
ice,  which  in  his  judgment  must  have  rum,  he  realized  that 
he  lived  in  a  no-license  town.  But  here  again  the  grocer 
knew  a  way,  and  again  he  became  a  silent  partner  in  crime. 
He  had  set  his  heart  on  partridges,  at  least  half  a  one  for 
each  guest ;  but  this  the  game  laws  seemed  to  make  improb 
able,  and  he  could  only  leave  an  order  to  provide  them  if 
practicable,  otherwise  to  fall  back  upon  squabs  or  snipe 
with  mushrooms.  Thus  he  became  thrice  a  potential 
criminal. 

The  ice  cream  must  be  made  at  home  and  cast  in  indi 
vidual  molds,  and  these  he  had  to  find  to  his  taste  and  buy. 
Nuts,  Porto  Rico  coffee,  sweets,  ginger,  apollinaris,  and 
other  minor  items  were  provided,  and  wines  he  fortunately 
had.  And  so  he  went  home,  with  some  complacency,  after 
several  hours  of  nerve-racking  and  mentally  fatiguing 
work. 

But  now  his  real  trouble  began.  The  cook  absolutely 
balked,  and  declared  she  could  never  prepare  all  these 
dishes  without  the  superintendence  of  the  mistress,  and 
that  the  home-made  ice  cream  in  individual  molds  was  im 
possible.  He  thought,  too,  that  he  detected  in  her  mind 
lack  of  confidence  in  her  ability  to  prepare  the  trout  as  he 
wanted  them,  and  she  declared  that,  if  she  undertook  the 
entire  task,  she  must  have  three  dollars  extra  and  a  helper. 
Being  unwilling  to  apply  to  his  neighbors  for  the  loan  of  a 
cook  he  set  out  for  an  intelligence  office,  and  learned  of  an 
expert,  whom  he  at  length  found  in  a  remote  part  of  the 
city,  who  would  bestow  her  efforts  for  the  day  for  five 
dollars,  but  must  be  supreme.  At  this  his  own  cook  at 
first  flew  into  a  downright  revolt,  threatening  to  bolt  at 
once,  bag  and  baggage.  But  by  promising  her  an  extra 
three  dollars,  she  consented,  though  with  no  very  good 
grace,  to  the  conditions.  The  chambermaid  agreed  to  serve 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES      213 

at  the  table,  as  she  had  often  done,  but  let  it  be  plainly  seen 
that  she,  too,  expected  to  do  so  for  a  consideration.  He 
wishecT  another  table  girl  in  the  same  kind  of  black  dress 
with  white  cap  and  shoulder-strap  apron,  and  she  suggested 
that  a  friend  of  hers  would  be  willing  to  come  in  for  the 
evening  for  a  proper  fee,  although  she  had  no  uniform. 
She  was  found,  taken  to  an  establishment,  duly  fitted  out 
for  eleven  dollars  and  a  half,  and  at  seven  P.  M.  my  friend 
sat  down  to  his  solitary  meal,  excited  in  mind  and  body,  a 
real  case  of  nerves  which  perturbed  his  sleep  with  painful 
dreams. 

Happily,  he  little  realized  what  was  before  him  the  next 
day,  on  which  I  perhaps  ought  to  draw  the  veil.  I  will  not 
enumerate  the  things  found  lacking  or  the  orders  which 
came  late,  or  not  at  all,  so  that  sudden  shifts  had  to  be 
made;  nor  how  his  colored  man  and  he  were  subjugated 
the  entire  day  and  kept  running  by  the  cook,  who  was  an 
empress  in  the  kitchen  for  ten  hours.  Nor  will  I  describe 
the  friction  between  the  special  and  the  stated  help,  the 
discovery,  when  the  table  came  to  be  laid,  that  several 
plates  and  glasses  in  the  sets  required  were  one  or  more 
pieces  short,  and  the  further  shifts,  trips  townward,  and 
purchases  thereby  made  necessary;  how,  when  he  came  to 
don  his  tuxedo,  no  clean,  broad-bosomed  shirt  was  found 
save  one  he  had  ironed  and  which  it  made  his  very  soul 
groan  to  wear;  how  both  the  trout  and  squab  for  some 
mysterious  reason  proved  one  short,  so  that  he  had  to 
decline  both  rather  than  let  one  guest  go  unserved  in  these 
courses ;  how  very  promptly  each  invited  guest  arrived ; 
how  long  the  initial  wait  before  dinner  was  announced,  or 
how  long  the  delays  between  several  of  the  courses;  how 
anxious  he  was  throughout,  in  contrast  to  the  ease  and 
confidence  he  had  felt  when  giving  dinners  in  which  his 
wife  had  borne  all  the  burdens  he  was  now  bearing  and 
had  given  no  sign;  how  light  of  heart  he  grew  when  the 


214       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

coffee  and  cigars  were  served,  and  especially  when  a 
familiar  guest  praised  the  perfection  of  an  establishment 
that  could  give  such  a  dinner;  how  pride  tempted  him  to 
reveal  the  fact  that  he  had  done  it  all  and  that  his  wife 
was  not  only  not  in  the  kitchen  at  all,  but  one  hundred 
miles  away,  and  in  blissful  ignorance  of  his  treacherous 
invasion  into  her  domain.  Nor  will  I  describe  his  feelings 
when  later  he  added  up  the  cost  of  his  little  dinner  per 
plate  and  compared  it  with  what  he  might  have  offered 
approximately  the  same  for  at  the  club.  But  it  was  all  his 
own,  his  very  own.  And  it  would  be  easier  next  time,  only 
this  time  was  quite  enough  for  him  for  the  present.  But 
this  adventure  in  domesticity  he  felt  sure  would  outrank 
all  the  others  in  its  bitter-sweet  memories  when  it  came  to 
the  olim  meminisse  juvabit,  which  was  kept  fresh  in  his 
mind  during  the  subsequent  days,  when  his  own  lonely 
meals  were  made  up  of  or  interlarded  with  the  remains  of 
his  Sybaritic  feast. 

Cooking,  to  him,  had  come  to  seem  the  art  of  arts.  Man 
is  what  he  eats,  and  ever  since  Prometheus  gave  men  the 
control  of  fire,  they  have  been  evolving  this  "preliminary 
digestion,"  every  advance  in  which  sets  free  more  kinetic 
energy  for  culture  and  civilization.  Good  cooking,  too,  is 
the  only  cure  for  intemperance,  and  bad  cooking  its  only 
cause,  he  held.  He  had  studied  the  chemistry  of  foods  a 
little  and  experimented  a  little  with  Fletcherism  and  the 
opposite  theory  that  food  should  be  bolted ;  he  was  a  little 
heretical  about  the  advantages  of  regular  meal  times,  and 
inclined  to  the  view  that  eating  only  when  one  was  hungry, 
and  what  one  most  wanted,  was  best  for  the  system.  He 
tried  to  teach  his  children  geography  a  little  by  telling 
them  where  each  item  on  their  table  came  from,  how  it 
grew,  was  prepared  for  the  market,  etc.  He  told  them, 
for  instance,  of  the  habits  of  salmon,  mackerel,  swordfish, 
and  the  rest;  of  Africa  and  the  Eastern  Islands  where 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES      215 

spices  grew,  of  slaughter  houses  and  the  canning  of  meats 
and  vegetables,  while  grains  of  all  kinds,  fruits  of  all  sea 
sons,  birds,  every  edible  variety  of  meats,  and  even  wines 
and  beers,  and  all  the  rest,  were  texts  of  informal  talks 
which  he  had  carefully  prepared  for  years  that  the  chil 
dren's  appetites  might  be  made  apperception  centers  for 
'all  the  botanical  and  zoological  knowledge,  and  the  accounts 
of  processes  and  localities,  that  they  could  be  made  to  con 
tain.  To  this  rather  unique  organization  of  his  knowledge 
he  was  slowly  adding  a  limited  curriculum  of  cooking,  and 
on  this  theme  had  accumulated  several  shelves  full  of  books 
and  choice  recipes  in  clippings. 

Plain  cooking  he  knew  something  of,  and  Thursday  and 
Sunday  afternoons,  when  the  cook  was  out,  he  with  his 
wife  and  children  prepared  the  evening  meal  and  kept 
alive  the  old,  traditionary  feeling  of  the  hearth  as  the  heart 
of  the  home.  But  there  were  many  mysteries  of  this  high 
art  he  could  never  master.  Practice  and  study  as  he 
would,  his  wife  excelled  him  here  as  much  as  he  did  the 
children,  or  as  the  cook  excelled  her.  On  the  paternal 
farm,  as  a  youth,  he  had  learned  to  do  many  things,  and 
as  a  student  in  the  laboratory  in  Germany  he  had  taken 
courses  of  lessons  each  of  a  shoemaker,  plumber,  glass 
blower,  broom  maker,  and  bookbinder,  and  he  set  type  and 
carved  wood  a  little.  But  with  all  his  unique  and  chronic 
passion  for  learning  to  do  new  things,  nowhere  did  he 
make  closer  acquaintance  with  more  of  his  own  limitations 
than  in  the  domain  of  the  kitchen,  although  he  had  for 
years  been  a  culinary  endeavorer. 

Of  almost  everything  that  the  chambermaid,  butler,  and 
coachman  knew,  he  was  already  past  master,  but  house- 
cleaning  was  his  pet  foible.  In  this  avocation  for  some 
two  months  every  spring,  he  found  just  the  physical  exer 
cise  and  mental  diversion  that  seemed  most  of  all  helpful 
for  both  mind  and  body.  Two  or  three  hours  a  day  sufficed. 


216       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

Beginning  in  his  own  study  and  arrayed  in  suitable  attire, 
with  every  window  open,  each  book  was  carefully  dusted 
out  of  the  window,  two  or  three  at  a  time,  shelf  by  shelf; 
the  books  of  each  tier  were  removed,  cleansed  and  re 
turned,  and  as  each  section  was  finished,  covered  with  a 
sheet  well  tucked  in.  Windows  were  washed,  curtains 
taken  down  for  cleansing  and  repair,  and  every  picture 
overhauled  and  rehung.  Incidentally,  too,  every  book, 
pamphlet,  paper,  lecture,  book  note,  letter  file,  and  drawer 
was  overhauled  and  arranged  in  order,  sometimes  according 
to  a  new  scheme.  Wheelbarrow  loads  of  literature  were 
discarded  and  taken  to  the  library  or  the  cremation  furnace 
in  it,  or  to  the  second-hand  bookstore,  or  to  country 
friends ;  to  make  room  in  advance  for  the  accumulations  of 
the  following  year. 

All  this  process  meant  also  that  everything  was  mentally 
inventoried,  lost  treasures  found  and  relocated  in  their 
proper  place,  stray  and  scattered  leaflets,  manuscripts,  let 
ters,  and  clippings  were  sorted,  fastened  together,  pigeon 
holed  in  the  desk,  and  like  brought  to  like,  to  the  great 
saving  of  time  and  energy  throughout  the  year.  This  work 
no  other  could  possibly  accomplish,  however  carefully 
directed,  without  adding  to  the  confusion.  New  and  im 
portant  arrangements  here  where  most  of  his  working  hours 
were  spent  gave  also  a  unique  and  most  exquisite  pleasure, 
perhaps  because  it  placed  him  in  masterful  command  of  all 
the  resources  in  this  plethoric  room,  full  of  the  accumula 
tion  of  years.  Standing  desk,  low  table,  lounge,  reclining 
chair,  drop  light,  smoking  stand  and  all  its  accouterments, 
rotary  bookcase,  cases  of  drawers  for  cards  and  for  filing 
large  envelopes,  writing  and  reading  chairs — everything 
was  rearranged  and  many  pretty  labor-saving  devices  and 
conveniences  gave  a  glow  of  happiness  of  a  hitherto  psycho 
logically  unclassified  kind.  What  was  it?  At  any  rate,  all 
this  brought  him  nearer  to  his  work,  made  him  more  com- 


ADVENTUEE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES       217 

pletely  master  of  all  his  resources,  and  restored  actual 
touch  with  many  things  that  were  lapsing  from  his  cog 
nizance.  It  gave  a  clear  and  fresh  feeling  of  increased 
efficiency,  and  made  old  things  seem  new.  It  was  somewhat 
as  if  his  very  brain  was  undergoing  reorganization  and 
resanification.  His  thinking  could  now  be  more  systematic 
and  effective,  and  his  whole  intellectual  nature  felt  tidied 
up,  cleansed,  and  refreshed. 

Our  ancestors,  the  cave  dwellers,  apparently  never 
cleaned  house,  but  let  the  debris  of  broken  flint  implements, 
worn-out  mortars  and  pestles  and  even  garments  accumu 
late,  to  say  nothing  of  bones,  shells,  and  ashes,  living  on 
top  of  it  all  for  generations,  and  when  the  cave  was  full 
moving  to  another.  I  know  old  houses  in  which  the  in 
mates  inherit  a  similar  propensity  and  are  unable  to  dis 
pose  of  disused  and  even  broken,  worn-out  articles.  Old 
papers,  clothes,  shoes,  hats,  letters,  books,  and  furniture 
are  carefully  preserved,  perhaps  relegated  to  attic,  lumber 
room,  or  closet,  until  all  are  bursting.  "Anything  may 
come  handy"  and  so  it  is  carefully  laid  up  and  forgotten. 
Woe  betide  him  or  her  who  lays  destructive  hands  upon  it ! 
Households  have  been  disrupted  by  this  conservative  in 
stinct  clashing  with  that  to  clean  up.  One  estimable  house 
wife  I  knew  fell  into  hysterics  because  in  her  absence  an 
old  chest  full  of  rags,  samples,  remnants,  envelopes,  clip 
pings,  was  sorted  over  and  the  worthless  part  burned  on 
the  dump  by  a  husband  who  needed  the  chest,  although  she 
had  not  opened  it  for  fourteen  years.  For  a  year  after, 
everything  she  could  not  readily  find  she  was  sure  had  been 
destroyed  in  the  great  holocaust. 

Housecleaning  should  be  an  imaginary  moving  and,  pain 
ful  as  it  often  is  to  condemn  old  things  hallowed  by  asso 
ciations,  to  have  once  been  strenuous  in  this  matter  often 
gives  "a  peace  that  passeth  understanding/'  probably 
somehow  akin  to  the  elimination  of  waste  tissue  by  the 


218       EECEEATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

agency  of  a  too  long  neglected  bath.  To  keep  lengthening 
rows  of  old  shoes,  rubbers,  trousers,  coats,  dresses,  for 
years  in  the  vague  hope  of  needing  them  for  some  outing, 
or  until  just  the  right  person  to  use  them  comes  to  the 
door,  is  a  form  of  psychic  slouchiness  akin  to  letting  the 
tailings  of  a  mine  block  its  entrance.  Heirlooms  and  special 
keepsakes  are  different.  Yet  the  moral  of  nature's  lesson 
is  iconoclastic.  Man  needs  to  molt  most  such  things  in 
order  that  his  soul  may  grow,  attain  adequate  detachment 
from  the  past  and  live  more  palpitatingly  in  the  present. 
Nations  with  the  longest  and  most  elaborately  recorded 
history,  like  modern  Italy  and  Greece,  are  not  better  for 
that  fact,  if  indeed  they  are  not  impaired  by  the  burden  of 
their  memories. 

This  may  help,  to  some  degree  at  least,  to  explain  my 
friend's  passion,  amounting  almost  to  a  mania,  for  house- 
cleaning.  Perhaps  when  he  is  older  he  will  feel  differently. 
But  he  lately  declared  that  for  nearly,  though  not  quite, 
every  old  book,  the  substance  of  which  he  knew  tolerably 
well,  that  he  expropriated  or  destroyed,  he  felt  an  access 
of  power  to  master  the  next  new  one  upon  the  subject. 
Every  old  file  of  letters  that  he  consigned  to  the  waste 
basket,  with  some  exceptions,  to  be  sure,  gave  new  exhilara 
tion,  because  of  the  feeling  that  he  would  never  have  to 
look  them  over  and  decide  their  fate  again,  as  he  had  so 
often  done  annually.  The  distribution  of  unmendable 
furniture  relieved  his  mind  of  the  faint  but  year-long 
prompting  to  get  it  repaired,  for  such  a  feeling  of  duty  to 
invalided  articles  may  become  almost  an  obsession  and  per 
haps  weaken  the  character,  as  good  intentions  too  faint 
ever  to  prompt  to  action  are  said  to  do. 

Thus  he  or  she  who  does  not  sometimes  clean  house  with 
his  or  her  own  hands  does  not  and  cannot  feel  the  full 
sense  of  ownership  and  possession  of  treasures.  To  be 
really  loved,  they  must  be  touched,  handled,  moved,  fur- 


ADVENTURE  IN  DOMESTIC  INDUSTRIES      219 

bished,  and  the  more  work  lavished  upon  them,  the  more 
they  are  not  only  sensed  but  loved  and  treasured.  Thus 
the  rich  do  not  own  their  "things";  they  are  simply  stored 
with  them  and  are  ownerless.  It  is  like  the  case  of  mothers 
who  have  borne  but  never  nursed,  fed,  dressed,  or  other 
wise  tended  their  children,  so  that  the  latter  are  really 
orphaned,  though  living  in  plenty.  It  is  moral  slouchiness 
about  psychic  housekeeping,  akin  to  senescence,  which  is 
caused  by  the  accumulation  and  non-elimination  of  the 
waste  products  of  decomposition,  that  lets  useless  things, 
accumulate  unduly;  while,  conversely,  the  drastic  exercise 
of  the  spring  function  brings  rejuvenation  of  spirits  and 
makes  and  keeps  us  like  young  people  who  have  not  yet 
lived  long  enough  to  accumulate  burdensome  impedimenta. 
The  proper  exercise  of  this  function  is  akin  to  a  wholesome 
Cathartic  for  a  victim  of  chronic  constipation. 

I  have  not  begun  to  do  justice  to  my  friend's  practice 
or  to  his  theories.  If  I  rightly  catch  his  drift,  he  is  pene 
trated  with  the  conviction  that  woman  is  in  danger  of 
losing  respect  for,  and  interest  in,  some  of  her  own  most 
fundamental  functions,  and  he  desired  to  see  at  first  hand 
whether  these  were  all  so  loathsome.  He  finds  most  of 
them  exhilarating  and  peculiarly  hygienic.  He  is  not  con 
ceited  enough  to  think  that  his  solitary  example — and  soli 
tary  enough  it  is — or  his  precept,  when  his  book  appears, 
will  set  her  again  upon  her  lost  trail.  He  fears  she  is 
abandoning  her  glorious  kingdom  and  that  so  set  is  her 
determination  to  follow  man  that  she  will  return  to  her 
own  only  if  he  leads  the  way.  He  is  able  to  find,  experi 
enced  as  he  is  in  athletics  and  in  varied  industries  and 
handicrafts,  nothing  quite  so  wholesome  for  body  and  soul 
as  doing  precisely  what  woman  is  now  turning  her  back 
upon.  He  holds,  too,  that  no  housewife  can  possibly  have 
washing,  cooking,  cleaning,  etc.,  well  done  by  servants  un 
less  she  has  learned  how  to  do,  and  actually  done,  these 


220       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

things  well  herself,  and  that  whether  she  be  a  millionaire 
or  a  professional  married  woman,  helping  her  husband  out 
side  the  home  to  support  his  family.  He  would  find  and 
make  in  domesticity  new  centers  for  the  education  of  girls 
and  women,  and  he  holds  that  it  would  not  be  less,  but 
more,  purely  cultural  than  present  methods.  But,  as  a 
lady  professor  in  his  own  college  remarked,  "though  he  is  a 
good  fellow,  he  is  a  queer  Dick,  and  the  bats  that  have 
domesticated  themselves  in  his  belfry  seem  to  be  a  new 
species,  though  they  are  probably  harmless. ' ' 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE 
I 

A  TKUE  TALE  OF  WESTERN  LIFE 
"  'Tis  a  wonder,  by  your  leave,  she  will  be  tamed  so. " 

SPEINGTOWN  CITY  is  a  quiet  little  village  that  has  grown 
up  around  a  college  for  both  sexes,  which  was  founded  by 
a  vigorous  religious  sect,  something  less  than  half  a  century 
ago,  in  what  was  then  the  far  West.  It  stands  upon  a 
gentle  southern  slope,  from  which,  across  a  deep  ravine  or 
glen,  can  be  seen  a  magnificent  expanse  of  rich  level  bottom 
land. 

Farther  up,  behind  the  town,  in  a  grassy  oak-opening, 
stands  an  immense  but  now  somewhat  dilapidated  wooden 
hotel,  which  a  rash  speculator  had  built  fifteen  years  before 
our  story  commences,  over  a  large  chalybeate  spring.  The 
glen,  through  which  now  flows  a  tiny  stream,  must  once 
have  been  the  bed  of  a  mighty  torrent,  for  it  is  more  than 
half  a  mile  wide,  very  deep,  and  cut  with  many  a  curve, 
quaint,  tunneled  arch,  and  dangerous  pit-hole  through  the 
solid  blue  limestone  rock.  Indeed,  one  of  the  professors  of 
the  college  had  been  for  years,  and  despite  some  ridicule, 
patiently  accumulating  evidence  for  a  pet  theory  of  his, 
that  the  three  central  great  lakes  along  our  northern 
boundary  once  found  a  nearer  outlet  to  the  sea  through 
this  ravine,  but  that  it  had  been  for  most  of  its  length 
filled  up  by  the  debris  of  the  glacial  epoch,  till  the  rising 
waters  of  the  lakes  were  forced  to  seek  out  a  new  and  higher 

221 


222       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

channel,  now  called  the  Niagara,  into  Ontario  and  the  St. 
Lawrence. 

Both  college  and  town  had  been  larger  twenty-five  years 
ago  than  now.  Indeed,  the  claims  of  the  former  upon  the 
patronage  of  the  community  had  been  at  first  so  success 
fully  urged  that  more  than  a  dozen  ignorant  heads  of  fam 
ilies  actually  sold  all  they  had,  and  came  in  canvas-topped 
prairie-wagons  and  encamped  for  weeks  under  the  unfin 
ished  walls  of  the  dormitories  in  the  vague  hope  that  some 
how  their  dirty  and  unlettered  youngsters  were  here  to  be 
trained  up  into  lawyers,  editors,  statesmen,  and  perhaps 
presidents,  by  a  new-fangled  educational  process  which 
they  did  not  pretend  to  understand.  The  town  also  had 
once  given  promise  of  speedy  and  unlimited  growth.  For 
a  few  years  extravagant  expectations  of  sudden  wealth  had 
attracted  many  capitalists,  until,  as  the  larger  enterprises 
failed  one  after  another,  investments  were  withdrawn  to 
more  promising  fields. 

Springtown  City  had  now  entered  upon  a  second  and 
more  tranquil  period  of  its  history.  A  large  portion  of 
the  population  was  still  transient,  settling  here  for  a  few 
months  or  years,  on  account  of  the  extreme  cheapness  of 
rent,  for  the  education  of  children,  or  for  health  and  recrea 
tion.  Half  a  dozen  wealthy  business  men  from  a  not  far- 
distant  city  had  established  summer  homes  in  or  near  the 
village.  But  the  strangest  thing  about  the  place  was  that 
the  influence  and  number  of  the  unfair  sex  had  been 
steadily  decreasing  until  by  the  last  census  it  was  found 
that  in  the  village  proper  the  men  were  outnumbered 
almost  three  to  one  by  the  women.  Widows  left  with 
slender  incomes,  anxious  mammas  who  looked  upon  a 
college  town  as  a  cheap  matrimonial  bazaar,  wives  of 
business  men  who  could  spend  only  Sunday  with  their 
families,  and  a  whole  chorus  of  sharp-witted  and  often 
sharp er-tongued  maids,  old  and  young,  made  up  the  society 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  223 

and  the  sentiment  of  the  town ;  while  for  half  a  generation 
the  younger  and  more  ambitious  men  had  sought  compe 
tency  or  professional  renown  in  wider  and  more  promising 
fields. 

In  the  college,  too,  the  girls  had  gradually  come  to  out 
number  and  even  outrank  the  boys,  while  their  influence 
upon  the  latter  grew  more  and  more  dominant.  They  had 
never  been  regarded  with  contempt  as  rivals,  and  from  the 
first  their  presence,  almost  without  their  consciousness,  had 
tended  to  repress  many  of  the  bad  habits  and  licensed  bar 
barities  of  college  life.  But  now  a  stolen  moonlight  ramble 
with  a  young  lady  classmate,  or  a  picnic  in  the  glen,  was 
gradually  becoming  more  attractive  than  a  midnight  raid 
on  freshmen  or  a  game  of  ball,  until  at  last  the  robust  boy- 
life  of  the  American  college,  which,  with  all  its  abuses, 
seasons  and  straightens  many  a  green  and  crooked  stick, 
was  almost  forgotten.  Even  the  faculty  were  obliged  to 
admit  that  the  collection  of  specimens  in  natural  science 
was  vastly  facilitated  by  allowing  the  classes  to  pair  off  in 
their  studies  of  flora  and  fauna.  The  boys  sometimes  wrote 
essays  on  domestic  life,  on  ideal  womanhood,  and  on  the 
prominence  given  to  the  sentiment  of  love  in  the  literatures 
of  the  world,  and  were  fond  of  attending  the  Hypatia  Club, 
where  social  and  political  themes  were  discussed  by  their 
young  lady  rivals,  often  with  great  sagacity  and  maturity. 
In  all  social  gatherings  where  town  and  college  met,  men 
were  at  quite  a  premium.  On  Shakespeare  evenings  ladies 
sometimes  had  to  assume  the  parts  of  Orlando,  Ferdinand, 
and  even  Benedick  and  Petruchio.  Two  of  them  became 
quite  acceptable  as  bass  singers,  and  all  took  turns  in 
dancing  '  *  gentleman ' '  with  white  handkerchiefs  tied  about 
the  right  arm.  In  the  weekly  prayer-meetings  at  several 
of  the  churches,  the  most  edifying  exercises  were  usually 
led  by  women.  A  few  of  the  stronger-minded  once  walked 
to  the  polls,  and  vainly  demanded  the  right  to  vote,  and 


224       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

one  of  them  afterward  went  so  far  as  to  allow  her  piano  to 
be  sold  rather  than  to  pay  her  taxes.  Another,  at  a  public 
anniversary,  read  a  rather  too  scientific  essay  on  tight- 
lacing,  and  another  persisted  for  a  year  in  wearing  a  reform 
costume.  But,  on  the  whole,  despite  some  gossip-monger- 
ing,  and  now  and  then  an  eccentricity  like  the  above,  a 
wise  spirit  of  moderation  pervaded  the  place.  Not  a  dram 
shop  was  open  there  after  the  woman's  crusade.  Im 
morality  was  repressed  by  a  rigid  social  ostracism,  while 
the  whole  moral  atmosphere  was  kept  singularly  pure  and 
bracing  by  an  all-pervading  censorship,  sometimes  as  rigor 
ous  and  outspoken  as  a  woman's  indignation,  and  some 
times  as  subtle  as  feminine  tact. 

The  beginning  of  our  story  takes  us  back  to  late  one 
evening  during  the  Christmas  holidays  in  1872.  Mrs.  El- 
more  had  opened  the  spacious  double  parlors  of  her  summer 
home — in  which  she  had  been  detained  from  her  usual 
winter  season  at  the  hotel  in  the  city,  by  the  sickness  of  an 
only  son — for  the  entertainment  of  the  Springtown  Liter 
ary  Club.  The  exercises,  which  consisted  of  a  conversation 
on  Dante's  Vita  Nu&va,  led  by  a  young  college  professor, 
and  a  representation  of  scenes  from  As  You  Like  It,  had 
been  unusually  well  attended  and  interesting.  The  guests 
had  slowly  taken  their  departure  in  a  pelting  storm  of 
mingled  snow  and  rain  that  had  suddenly  arisen  since  they 
had  assembled.  When  the  door  had  closed  after  the  last 
good-night,  Mrs.  Elmore  pushed  a  large  easy-chair  before 
the  grate,  and,  languidly  seating  herself,  summoned  the 
maid  to  bring  a  bottle  of  the  choice  cherry-wine  she  had 
put  up  with  her  own  hands  five  years  before. 

"And  tell  John,"  she  added,  "to  go  to  Mrs.  Newell's  at 
once,  and  say  that  Miss  Josephine  will  stay  with  me  to 
night." 

Mrs.  Elmore  was  a  tall,  large  woman,  with  a  decidedly 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  225 

Roman  cast  of  features,  and  of  commanding,  almost  reginal 
manner,  yet  with  a  complexion  as  fresh  as  a  girl  of  sixteen, 
and  with  eyes  and  lips  full  of  tenderness  and  sensibility. 
She  was  the  spoiled  only  daughter  of  a  well-to-do  lawyer, 
whose  name  had  been  quite  prominent  in  the  early  political 
history  of  the  State,  the  alternately  teased  and  petted  sister 
of  three  older  brothers,  and  was  now  the  wife  of  a  rich 
old  speculator,  who  had  retired  from  business  nearly  a 
score  of  years  before,  when  he  married  her,  a  girl  of  seven 
teen.  Always  allowed  to  follow  her  own  capricious  and 
adventuresome  will,  she  had  acquired  an  unusually  wide 
and  varied  experience  as  a  woman  of  the  world ;  while  her 
independent  and  original  ways  and  views  in  all  matters 
within  her  ken,  domestic,  social,  and  sometimes  even  liter 
ary  or  political,  to  which  it  was  her  particular  affectation 
to  call  attention,  had  made  her  the  center  of  quite  a  salon 
of  admirers.  The  ceaseless  and  exuberant  flow  of  animal 
spirits  which  led  her  sometimes  to  make  ludicrous  the 
foibles  of  others  by  good-humored  though  rather  too 
trenchant  caricature,  had  sharpened  the  tongues  of  the 
village  gossips  against  her;  but,  in  spite  of  this,  it  was 
more  than  whispered  that  she  was  the  trusted  counselor  of 
many  a  lovelorn  lad  and  lass,  who  were  somehow  led  to 
pour  their  secrets  into  her  ear,  and  seek  her  sound,  wo 
manly  advice.  If  this  was  so,  she  did  her  kindly  offices 
silently,  and  kept  her  own  counsels  with  perfect  discretion. 
In  short,  she  was  by  no  means  a  vulgar  backbiter  or  an 
intriguing  matchmaker,  whatever  Mrs.  Grundy  might  sur 
mise. 

Before  the  maid  returned,  a  young  lady  entered  from 
behind  the  curtain  of  the  temporary  stage  in  the  back- 
parlor,  and  seated  herself  on  an  ottoman  with  the  air  of 
a  familiar  and  consciously  welcome  guest.  She  was  dressed 
in  the  last  hymeneal  costume  of  Rosalind,  and  her  face  was 
still  flushed  from  the  excitement  of  the  evening's  per- 


226       RECEEATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

formance.  Yet,  in  spite  of  the  hearty  and  well-merited 
applause  she  had  received,  there  was  no  look  of  triumph 
upon  her  brow,  but  rather  a  trace  of  anxiety  and  even  pain. 
"Without  noticing  this,  Mrs.  Elmore  began: 

"What  foolish  whim  was  it  that  made  you  try  to  give 
up  your  part  at  the  very  last  moment?  You  look  well  in 
the  costume  of  a  page.  The  *  mannish  air/  the  'swashing 
martial  outside,'  become  you  admirably.  You  fit  the  de 
scription  of  the  character  which  is  put  into  Oliver's  mouth. 
You  were  just  born  for  a  Rosalind,  and  she  seems  to  me 
the  very  crown  jewel  of  all  Shakespeare's  womanly  cre 
ations — so  delicate  yet  so  resolute  and  independent,  ao 
tender  yet  so  noble.  What  ought  a  sensible  girl  of  princely 
breeding,  suddenly  thrown  upon  her  own  resources,  to  do 
but  find  the  man  she  loves,  satisfy  herself  that  her  affection 
is  returned,  and  then  let  him  know  she  is  ready?  You 
had  no  such  morbid  scruples  about  the  part  when  you  were 
a  collegian ;  for,  if  I  remember  aright,  you  had  tried  it  be 
fore,  though  with  far  less  success.  Still,"  she  mused,  "I 
am  not  surprised  at  all." 

"It  is  no  such  foolish  pride  as  that,"  replied  Miss 
Newell.  "To  be  sure,  I  expected  to  feel  more  awkward  in 
such  a  character  at  twenty-eight  than  I  did  at  sixteen, 
though  I  felt  far  less  so.  But  what  saddens  me  more  and 
more  every  day  is  the  thought  of  Brother  George's  mar 
riage  In  the  spring.  The  old  home,  that  I  have  kept  for 
him  ever  since  poor  father's  death,  must  be  broken  up. 
Our  tastes  were  similar,  we  read  and  studied  together 
through  college,  and  I  thought  we  should  always  live  to 
gether.  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do." 

Her  voice  trembled,  and  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"Nonsense!  I  thought  you  abhorred  sentiment,"  said 
Mrs.  Elmore.  "Your  brother  ought  to  have  married  long 
ago,  and  you  ought  to  be  glad  of  a  chance  to  get  away 
from  Springtown  at  last.  A  sister's  love  should  never 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  227 

make  her  jealous  of  a  wife's.  I  have  not  been  surprised 
at  what  I  have  seen  in  you  to-night.  The  townsfolk  who 
have  known  you  longest,  and  have  always  complained  of 
your  cold,  proud  ways,  were  all  struck  with  the  warm, 
loving  manner  in  which  you  portrayed  Rosalind's  love. 
Your  brother  would  have  been  astonished  most  of  all  had 
he  seen  you  to-night." 

There  was  no  reply,  and  Mrs.  Elmore  continued : 

"Now,  Josie,  I  asked  you  to  stay  to-night,  not  because 
I  am  afraid  to  be  alone  in  Mr.  Elmore 's  absence,  and  not 
because  I  forget  your  strange  love  of  walking  in  all  kinds 
of  bad  weather,  but  because  I  have  something  very  plain 
and  particular  to  say  to  you.  Professor  Moors  is  in  love 
with  you.  There!  don't  smile,  and  don't  look  so  scornful 
about  it.  Poor  fellow!  It  was  really  pitiful  to  see  the 
timid  glance  he  gave  you  as  he  was  describing  so  earnestly 
Dante's  growing,  yet  hopeless,  passion.  I  was  not  sur 
prised.  I  have  long  suspected  it.  Your  snug  little  fortune 
makes  you  an  heiress  in  his  eyes,  so  that  his  pride,  as  well 
as  his  bookish,  bashful,  inexperienced  ways,  will  always 
hinder  any  avowal.  I  doubt  if  he  is  himself  as  conscious 
of  his  affection  as  those  who  have  observed  him  of  late,  and 
of  course  he  would  feel  deeply  mortified  if  he  knew  how 
conspicuously  he  had  worn  his  heart  on  his  sleeve  to-night. 
He  is  a  rough,  undressed  stone,  fresh  from  the  quarry. 
Carve  away  boldly,  and  you  may  find  the  perfect  husband 
that  I  am  sure  lies  concealed  within." 

She  watched  her  listener's  face  closely  as  she  spoke,  but 
could  detect  nothing  but  indifference. 

"And  now,"  she  continued,  "I  see  plainly  that  I  am 
called  to  give  you  a  rather  serious  lecture.  You  are  well, 
energetic,  and  practical,  and  therein  much  superior  to  the 
average  woman.  But  this  silent  reserve  of  your  manner 
repels  what  is  absolutely  necessary  to  every  human  being — 
friendship  and  love.  Your  heart  has  always  been  strangely 


228       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

solitary.  It  is  dying  of  starvation.  It  asks  affection,  and 
you  give  it — books,  science.  Away  with  this  foolish,  cruel 
philosophy  of  life — this  systematic  repression  of  sentiment ! 
There  is,  to  be  sure,  such  a  thing  as  a  tender,  almost  attrac 
tive  melancholy,  often  seen  in  young  and  earnest  souls.  It 
is  a  common,  perhaps  a  necessary,  phase  of  growth.  It 
comes  of  extravagant  ambition,  and  is  often  the  reaction 
of  unrealizable  ideals  and  hopeless  love.  And — oh,  dear! 
— how  common  such  cases  are  nowadays — in  novels!  But 
yours  is  a  little  less  commonplace,  at  least  in  degree  if  not 
in  kind,  for  mature  years  ought  to  bring,  and  generally  do, 
a  sound,  stable  contentment.  If  they  do  not,  the  end  is — 
well — the  worst  thing  that  can  come  to  a  well-meaning 
woman — a  lingering,  decaying  discontent,  that  stultifies 
and  kills  all  that  is  best  in  her  nature.  Come,  now — you 
know  I  admire  your  ambitions,  if  I  do  not  approve  the 
direction  they  have  taken.  I  know  you  better  than  you  do 
yourself,  and  love  you  far  better  than  you  love  yourself, 
so  do  think  about  all  this  seriously. " 

"Is  that  why  you  have  kept  me  to-night?"  replied  Miss 
Newell,  with  some  warmth.  "I  have  always  liked  that 
little  homily  of  yours,  and  it  has  never  impressed  me  more 
than  now ;  and  so  let  me  say,  once  for  all,  I  have  no  thought 
of  marrying.  I  have  put  it  entirely  out  of  my  plans.  I 
have  no  wish  to  halve  my  rights  and  double  my  duties. 
The  very  best  women  nowadays  are  unmarried.  The  flirts 
and  the  drudges  find  husbands  easily  enough — the  silliest 
first,  for  that  matter.  Men  love  sentimentality,  and  affecta 
tion  they  take  as  a  superfine  form  of  compliment.  I  am 
old  enough,  too,  to  see  woman's  wrongs,  which  I  pity,  while 
I  despise  her  weaknesses.  As  to  the  townspeople,  you  know 
I  never  care  for  their  senseless  gossip,  and  with  Professor 
Moors  I  have  scarcely  more  than  a  bowing  acquaintance." 

Yet,  as  she  spoke,  her  color  heightened. 

"I  have  often  half  suspected  your  sincerity  in  these 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  229 

views/'  said  Mrs.  Elmore,  "and  I  am  not  surprised  at 
what  I  see.  Your  very  demonstrativeness  in  stating  such 
theories  assures  me  that — unconsciously,  perhaps — you  are 
trying  to  preach  down  your  own  heart,  and  that  is  as  vain 
and  senseless  as  trying  to  mortify  the  flesh  in  a  cloister. 
It  is  the  supreme  duty  of  every  sensible  and  well-bred 
young  woman  to  use  every  honorable  means  that  God  and 
Nature  have  put  into  her  hands  to  get  herself  safely  and 
happily  married;  and  what  is  one  woman's  friendship 
worth  to  another  save  to  render  wise  aid  in  advancing  this 
great  end  ?  It  would  be  a  funny  thing, ' '  she  added,  with  a 
loud,  merry  laugh,  "if  a  loving  couple  who  met  almost 
daily  should  die  of  'concealment  like  a  worm  i'  the  bud' — 
he  too  bashful  to  tell  his  love,  she  shouting  'Excelsior*  to 
the  last  to  drown  the  softer  accents  of  her  own  heart. ' ' 

"When  you  have  told  Professor  Moors  your  suspicions 
about  me,  if  you  have  not  already  done  so,  your  duty  will 
be  ended.  Much  joy  may  you  find  in  your  bootless  task!" 
said  Miss  Newell,  rising,  and  now  thoroughly  angry. 

"Well,  I  am  not  at  all  surprised.  You  are  tired  now, 
but  sometime  you  will  do  me  justice.  By  the  way,  I 
wanted  to  ask  you  to  spend  a  few  weeks  with  me  in  the 
city  next  month.  You  were  never  properly  introduced 
into  society,  you  know." 

"Oh,  I  understand,"  said  Miss  Newell.  "You  think 
that  now  I  am  to  be  alone  in  the  world  I  need  a  little  of 
your  wise  advertising  and  bargaining  to  save  me  from  a 
forlorn  old-maidhood.  So  kind  of  you!  But  I  tell  you 
I  hate  the  dependence  of  married  life.  The  helpless  con 
dition  and  the  narrow,  shallow  life  of  most  married  women 
is  the  most  pathetic  thing  in  the  whole  wide  world  to  me. 
I  will  show  people  that  one  woman  at  least  has  sense 
enough  to  take  care  of  herself.  Whatever  else  I  was  made 
to  do  in  the  world  I  was  not  made  to  smirk,  and  simper, 


230       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

and  blush,  under  the  stare  of  every  brainless,  impudent 
beau." 

"I  am  not  surprised,  my  dear,  at  your  feelings,"  said 
Mrs.  Elmore,  ''but  you  need  rest  now — so  good-night. 
Mary  will  show  you  to  your  room." 

"No,  I  am  not  at  all  surprised,"  she  soliloquized,  after 
her  guest  had  retired.  "Poor  girl!  she  knows  she  has  be 
trayed  her  secret  to  me.  Her  pride  will  make  her  avoid 
me.  Her  heart  will  have  a  long  and  lonely  conflict  with 
her  ambition,  and  we  may  well  be  anxious  about  the  result. 
I  shall  not  be  surprised,  however  it  may  end.  It  is  such  a 
satisfaction  to  foresee  things ! ' '  and  she  looked  abstractedly 
through  the  bottom  of  her  empty  wineglass  at  the  dying 
fire  till  she  realized  that  she  was  both  sleepy  and  chilly. 

Early  in  the  morning  she  was  awakened  by  a  gentle  tap 
at  her  door,  and  Miss  Newell's  voice:  "Don't  get  up;  I 
must  go  home  before  T>reakfast,  and  I  only  wanted  you  to 
lend  me  a  book." 

' '  Certainly ;  anything, ' '  said  Mrs.  Elmore. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude  last  night.    Do  forget  it." 

"Of  course.  I  told  you  I  was  not  surprised  under  the 
circumstances,"  replied  Mrs.  Elmore,  trying  to  rouse  her 
self. 

On  going  downstairs  an  hour  later  she  looked  over  the 
shelves  of  her  library,  and  could  not  help  smiling  and  mur 
muring  to  herself,  "I  am  not  surprised,"  as  she  noticed 
that  the  Vita  Nuova  was  missing. 

It  was  very  lonely  at  Miss  Newell's  during  the  week 
while  her  brother  was  away.  The  only  inmates  of  the 
large,  old-fashioned  house  besides  herself  were  an  invalid 
mother,  a  little  brother,  and  two  servants.  After  break 
fast,  and  when  the  day's  marketing  had  been  done,  Miss 
Newell  retired  to  her  own  room.  It  was  one  she  had  occu 
pied  alone  from  her  girlhood,  and  it  was  filled  with  the 
relics  of  many  a  girlish  enthusiasm.  There  was  a  small 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  231 

case  of  geological  specimens,  a  well-prepared  herbarium,  the 
skeleton  of  a  cat  she  had  dissected,  and  several  birds 
stuffed  by  her  own  hands  in  her  college  days.  The  walls 
•were  covered  with  portraits  of  all  styles  and  sizes,  of  what 
she  poetically  called  the  heroines  of  the  ages,  and  which 
she  had  been  at  great  pains  and  much  expense  to  collect. 
All  types  of  womanhood,  historic  and  fictitious,  from 
Minerva  to  Mrs.  Somerville,  from  Kriemhild  and  Trojan 
Helen  to  Florence  Nightingale  and  George  Eliot,  were 
grouped  on  the  walls  with  evident  care,  but  upon  a  prin 
ciple  not  obvious  to  any  but  herself.  They  were  framed, 
too,  in  every  conceivable  way,  and  not  according  to  the 
value  or  style  of  the  picture,  but  evidently  according  to 
some  sense  of  poetic  fitness.  Some  were  deeply  matted  in 
gilt  and  velvet,  and  some  only  bordered  by  varnished  burs, 
spruce-cones,  and  oak-leaves,  and  some  were  framed  in 
spatter-work  or  plain  white  paper  curiously  folded  and 
cut.  A  large  and  well-selected  library  occupied  one  side 
of  the  room,  in  which  historical  works  seemed  to  predom 
inate,  and  all  the  furniture  was  rich,  but  plain  and  worn. 
Miss  Newell  seated  herself  before  the  small  coal-stove, 
and  was  soon  absorbed  in  the  book  she  had  borrowed.  As 
she  read  the  passionate  sonnets  she  tried  to  trace  the  maze 
of  fact  and  allegory  in  their  mystic  lines,  crammed  as  full 
of  meaning  as  a  cabalistic  text.  She  saw  how  the  poet's 
ambition  was  fired,  and  his  soul  expanded  and  tempered 
by  the  heat  of  love  into  genius — a  love  which,  perhaps,  she 
who  was  its  object  never  suspected.  She  recalled  how  the 
young  professor  had,  the  evening  before,  contrasted  the 
purity  of  Dante's  passion  with  the  pagan  love  described 
by  Tibullus  and  Apuleius,  and  the  half-sentimental,  half- 
sensuous  love  of  knight-errantry,  and  the  poet's  noble 
frankness  with  the  vanity  of  Rousseau,  and  his  willing 
docility  to  the  teachings  of  affliction  with  the  long  heart- 
martyrdoms  of  asceticism,  until  at  last,  wearied  and 


232       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

satisfied,  she  threw  down  the  book,  put  on  her  shawl,  and 
set  out  upon  her  solitary  daily  walk. 

The  weather  had  grown  colder  in  the  night,  the  wind 
was  biting,  and  the  walks  were  slippery.  But  the  usual 
two  miles  were  faithfully  done.  As  she  returned  past  the 
college  the  hour-bell  was  ringing,  and  she  turned  her  steps, 
as  she  was  quite  in  the  habit  of  doing,  toward  one  of  the 
lecture-rooms  where  all  resident  graduates  were  allowed 
to  attend  whenever  they  chose.  She  had  often  visited  Pro 
fessor  Moors 's  room,  but  she  lingered  in  the  hall  till  the 
students  had  all  taken  their  places.  It  required  a  slight 
effort  to  enter,  and  she  hardly  knew  whether  she  was  more 
relieved  or  disappointed  to  find  that  the  wizen-faced  Dr. 
Skinner  had  been  assigned  this  room,  and  with  his  hard, 
dry  sentences  and  crispy  German  accent,  was  beginning  a 
lecture  on  philosophy.  She  tried  to  understand  something 
about  the  absolute  spirit,  and  pure  thought,  and  divine 
archetypal  intuitions,  but  the  desolate  snowscape  which 
she  saw  through  the  window  was  more  interesting.  Just 
before  the  close  of  the  hour,  however,  her  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  transition  in  the  lecture. 

1 1  We  come  now, ' '  said  the  professor,  ' '  to  Schleiermacher, 
whose  position  is  in  many  respects  the  exact  opposite  of 
the  pure,  dry  intellectuality  of  Hegel.  The  former  be 
lieved  that  feeling,  not  thought,  is  the  absolute;  that 
growth  in  the  consciousness  of  dependence,  not  independ 
ence,  is  the  true  measure  of  human  progress;  that  enthu 
siasm  is  better  than  reasoning  or  science;  that  it  is  deli 
cacy  and  intensity  of  feeling  that  make  genius  in  the 
artist,  conscience^  in  the  reformer,  faith  in  the  devotee,  and 
the  truest  nobility  in  man,  and  especially  in  woman.  The 
highest  and  absolute  form  of  feeling  is  a  sense  of  depend 
ence  upon  something  that  is  above  us.  His  pupil,  Neander, 
summarized  his  system  of  religious  doctrine  in  the  phrase 
6The  heart  makes  the  theologian.'  There  is  no  such  type 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  233 

of  the  true  relation  of  the  Church  through  all  its  member 
ship  to  Christ  as  pure  wifely  love." 

Miss  Newell  had  listened  to  the  same  words  six  years 
before,  but  they  had  made  no  impression  upon  her.  With 
out  thinking  deeply  on  what  she  had  heard  and  read  that 
morning,  she  went  home  with  a  vague,  half -serious  thought 
that  Providence  had  somehow  conspired  with  Mrs.  Elmore 
to  alter  the  course  of  life  she  had  marked  out  for  herself, 
but  this  she  vowed  with  the  greatest  earnestness  they 
should  never  do.  This  impression  was  not  lessened  when, 
on  entering  the  dining-room,  she  found  a  formal  invitation 
for  herself  and  brother  to  attend  the  usual  New  Year's 
reception  in  the  college  parlors,  where  she  knew  she  should 
meet  Professor  Moors,  with  whom  she  had  not  spoken  since 
his  return  from  the  summer  vacation. 

When  the  evening  came,  Miss  Newell  found  herself  in 
stinctively  avoiding  tie  young  professor.  Their  eyes  met 
once  or  twice  during  the  evening,  but  toward  its  close  they 
suddenly  found  themselves  face  to  face. 

"It  is  singular/'  he  said,  "how  we  escape  each  other. 
This  is  the  third  evening  I  have  lately  spent  where  you 
were,  but  we  have  not  met  since  last  commencement. ' ' 

Confused  to  feel  that  in  spite  of  herself  her  manner  was 
never  more  frigid,  Miss  Newell  could  only  say: 

' '  I  hope  your  summer  was  pleasantly  passed.  You  were 
in  Maine,  I  think?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied.  "The  lonesome  life  I  lead  here  has 
made  me  enjoy  my  home-visits  more  than  ever  before. 
What  a  wonderful  place  this  is  for  work — so  quiet  and  so 
healthful !  But  when  one  feels  the  need  of  rest  and  recrea 
tion,  then  the  trouble  begins.  One  asks  one  after  another 
of  his  friends  to  walk,  finds  them  always  preoccupied,  and 
then  has  to  force  himself  to  go  stupidly  and  lonesomely 
without  company.  One  may  drum  on  his  piano  when  he  is 
sick  of  work,  but  if  he  studies  new  pieces  it  is  work  again. 


234       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

There  is  no  one  to  play  whist,  or  even  chess.  If  one  could 
work  here  all  the  time,  he  would  not  get  pessimistic.  As 
it  is,  I  confess  I  do  sometimes." 

' '  Happy  at  work,  and  miserable  when  play-time  comes ! '  * 
said  Miss  Newell,  now  almost  surprised  at  her  own  anima 
tion.  "Then  I  ought  to  wish  you  a  most  laborious  life. 
Probably  you  have  eaten  so  much  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree 
of  knowledge  that  you  are  divinely  sentenced  to  greater 
toil  than  most  of  us." 

"No,"  replied  he,  very  gravely.  "That  is  the  root  of 
most  of  the  gloomy  philosophy  so  alarmingly  prevalent 
nowadays.  Sound  knowledge  never  brings  unhappiness. 
The  fall  was  a  yet  more  supreme  blessing  to  the  race  than 
Jesus  himself  brought.  I  have  always  told  my  classes  that 
'Faust'  and  all  that  sort  of  works  are  immoral  because 
they  dispute  the  fact  that  the  human  mind  was  designed 
to  seek  the  "unattainable,  like  a  ship  built  for  the  sea  and 
not  the  harbor,  with  many  sails  and  but  one  anchor.  Those 
who  have  really  tasted  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge 
have  come  to  know  that  on  the  whole,  as  things  are,  the 
most  toilsome  life  is  the  healthiest,  happiest,  most  success 
ful — in  short,  the  best  and  fullest,  however  measured. ' ' 

"I  have  vaguely  felt  that  myself,  and  I  am  grateful  to 
you  for  saying  it  so  distinctly, ' '  said  Miss  Newell,  heartily. 
' '  But  yet  it  is  so  different  with  me !  I  say  to  myself  every 
day,  I  must  work  harder,  though  I  have  nothing  more 
definite  to  work  for  than  self-culture.  And  now  when  I 
am  about  to  break  up  my  dull  home-life  here,  and  have 
nothing  to  care  for  but  my  own  culture,  I  am  very  sad, 
and  begin  to  realize  how  happy  I  Jiwve  been." 

"Yours  is  a  rare  good  fortune,"  said  the  professor, 
"when  contrasted  with  the  dreadful  drudgery  of  a  teach 
er's  life,  for  I  confess  I  should  give  up  my  theory  if  I  had 
no  higher  ideal  of  work  than  even  I  am  able  to  put  into 
practice." 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  235 

"You  think  teaching  so  hard,  then?"  she  asked. 

"No  one  who  has  not  tried  it,"  replied  the  professor, 
"can  imagine  the  petty  vexations,  the  carking  cares,  the 
lifeless  routine,  and  the  abjectness  of  spirit,  which  it  is 
impossible  for  even  the  best  entirely  to  escape." 

"Then  what  do  you  think,"  she  added,  quickly,  "of  the 
condition  of  so  many  women  who  prefer  the  lowest  grade 
of  it,  at  starvation  prices,  to  the  many  other  things  that  a 
woman  may  do  ? " 

"They  do  not  enter  upon  it  as  a  life's  work,"  he  replied, 
"but  only  as  a  makeshift,  till  marriage  or  sometning  else 
comes  to  them.  Of  course,  they  do  not  enjoy  it.  Women 
need  a  congenial  and  all-absorbing  'task  for  a  life-pre 
server'  as  much  as  men,"  he  continued,  speaking  now  more 
and  more  earnestly  and  disconnectedly,  as  he  felt  himself 
borne  along  on  a  new  and  more  dangerous  hobby  of  his. 
"And  that  is  the  whole  of  woman's  rights?  Look  at  it! 
The  women  will  have  to  answer  for  a  large  share  of  the 
disorders  of  modern  society.  They  must  be  fashionable, 
though  their  children  are  neglected  and  their  husbands 
become  mere  money-hunters,  or  perhaps  thieves.  Half  of 
them  would  rather  live  in  an  expensive  hotel  than  be  mis 
tress  of  the  best  of  homes.  '  Anything  but  domestic  life/ 
is  the  cry.  They  will  teach,  preach,  stand  behind  counters, 
set  type,  write  books,  and  what  not,  all  at  half  prices,  rather 
than  rescue  the  kitchen  and  the  nursery  from  foreign  in- 
competency.  Most  of  them,  too,  are  invalids  nowadays,  no- 
more  fit  to  marry  than  they  are  to  compete  with  men  in 
active  life,  and  so  they  are  selfish,  morbidly  excitable,  yet 
often  strangely  unfeeling,  never  satisfied — in  short,  have 
all  the  symptoms  of  mental  and  physical  invalidism.  Look 
at  our  young  lady  students.  There  is  not  one  of  them, 
however  much  she  might  want  to  marry,  who  would  not 
feel  a  little  humiliated  afterward  to  be  found  washing 
dishes  or  making  bread,  and  all  her  old  mates  would  pity 


236       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ner,  and  think  her  education  was,  of  course,  a  dead  loss. 
And  yet,  no  one  thinks  it  particularly  hard  for  a  young 
lawyer,  however  superior  his  training,  to  begin  his  pro 
fession  as  the  counsel  of  a  drunken  Irishwoman  or  a  hog- 
thief,  or  for  a  young  doctor  to  work  half  a  day  in  trying 
to  set  one  of  the  broken  metatarsal  bones  of  a  dirty  negro 's 
foot.  Three  quarters  of  the  happiness  of  the  human  race 
ought  to  be  domestic,  and  would  be,  if  our  wrong-headed 
women  had  developed  instead  of  turned  their  backs  upon 
that  good  old  Anglo-Saxon  home-life,  which  is  the  best 
character-school,  the  best  source  of  high  motive  power,  the 
most  purifying  and  refining  influence  in  the  whole  world." 

The  professor  was  speaking  with  great  earnestness,  and 
would  have  said  more,  had  he  not  noticed  with  real  alarm 
the  rigid  pallor  of  his  listener's  face.  Before  he  could 
express  his  concern,  however,  she  was  speaking  very 
rapidly : 

"You  have  made  me  listen  to  the  most  cruel,  yes,  insult 
ing  words  I  can  conceive  of!  "Women  have  always  been 
victims  of  man's  selfishness  and  tyranny,  but  not  often  in 
the  worst  days  of  such  ungallant,  rankling,  wholesale  con 
demnation.  Have  you  studied  all  the  abuse  of  woman's 
worst  enemies,  to  vent  it  upon  me?  I  have  heard  of  such 
ideas,  but  never  supposed  before  that  they  were  sincerely 
held,  much  less  tliat  I  should  ever  listen  tdNJheir  avowal  by 
a  man  of  intelligence.  Most  of  your  notions  are  as  false 
as  they  are  outgrown.  If  woman  is  feeble,  man  made  her 
so.  If  she  is  vain,  it  is  because  man  has  condemned  her  to 
a  shallow  life.  If  she  hates  the  domestic  circle,  it  is  be 
cause  she  has  always  been  made  a  slave  there.  But  she  is 
and  does  none  of  these.  She  is  longing  for  a  fuller,  higher 
life,  with  all  the  strength  of  her  nature.  She  may  seem  at 
times  unfeeling,  but  it  is  because  she  longs  so  sternly  to 
know,  be,  and  do,  more  in  the  world ;  and  man,  instead  of 
helping  her  to  realize  her  aspirations,  thrusts  his  hard, 


A  LEAP-YEAE  ROMANCE  237 

cold  fist  in  her  face  when  she  attempts  to  rise.  Sir,  you 
are  most  unjust  and  unfeeling." 

Passionately  as  she  spoke,  her  face  had  now  almost  a 
beseeching  look,  and  she  stood  with  her  hands  clasped  and 
her  eyes  cast  down. 

"If  I  am  so  heartless,  I  can  doubtless  do  nothing  more 
agreeable  than  to  leave  you,"  said  Professor  Moors,  as  he 
turned  away  to  chat  gayly  with  a  group  of  lady  students 
till  the  party  dispersed. 

Two  weeks  passed.  Professor  Moors  had  met  Miss  Newell 
several  times  on  the  street,  but  her  bows  had  been  so  very 
distant  that  he  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  find  one  morn 
ing  among  his  letters  an  invitation,  written  in  a  clear,  bold 
hand,  to  attend  a  tea-party  at  her  home,  to  which  was 
added  a  request  that  he  would  mark  out  for  her  and  bring 
with  him  a  short  course  of  reading  in  romantic  fiction. 
She  had  from  principle  read  very  little  in  that  direction, 
the  note  went  on  to  state,  so  that  the  commonest  stories 
would  probably  be  new  to  her.  Professor  Moors  prepared, 
with  much  care,  a  short  list  of  representative  novels,  such 
as  could  be  found  in  the  college  library,  and  such  as  he 
fancied  would  benefit  and  perhaps  please  her  most.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him  until  he  afterward  glanced  over  the  list 
that  the  characters  most  prominently  portrayed  in  every 
work  he  had  selected  were  women,  as  Romola,  Annele, 
Irma,  Lucille,  etc.,  who  had  been  humbled  and  at  last 
sweetened  and  regenerated  by  long  and  painful  tribulation. 
It  was  a  curious  circumstance;  he  would  mention  it  to 
Miss  Newell.  When  the  evening  came,  notwithstanding  his 
early  arrival,  he  was  somewhat  disappointed  to  find  the 
large  old  parlors  already  quite  full  of  guests.  On  entering, 
Miss  Newell  received  him  in  a  cold  and,  as  he  was  a  trifle 
piqued  to  fancy,  condescending  manner,  and  turned  imme 
diately  away  to  other  comers,  and  it  was  in  vain  that  he 
sought  to  meet  her  again.  Soon  a  lap-tea  was  served,  and 


238       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

he  found  himself  seated  between  a  substantial  old  shop 
keeper  and  his  wife,  where  he  could  not  help  listening  to 
the  harsh  voice  of  Miss  NewelPs  grandmother,  who  had 
come  up  from  the  city  with  one  of  her  daughters  for  a 
week's  visit.  The  old  lady  was  a  little  hard  of  hearing, 
and  was  speaking  in  a  correspondingly  loud  voice  to  Mrs. 
Elmore. 

"What  upon  airth!  You  don't  say  so?  Ef  I  could 
b'lieve  it,  I  should  feel  middlin'  kind  o'  streaked  about  it 
myself.  But  it  just  can't  be.  Why,  bless  yer,  when  she 
was  in  pantalettes,  she  was  a 'ready  the  pertest,  sassiest  lit 
tle  minx  ye  ever  seed,  and  so  chuck  full  o'  grit  that  her  big 
brother  darsent  pester  her.  When  she  got  put  out  she 
wouldn't  go  round  tewin'  and  takin'  on,  but  she'd  just 
spunk  right  up  to  the  biggest  on  'em.  Her  gran'ther  used 
to  say,  says  he,  'Won't  she  wear  the  britches  when  she 
gets  married,  though?  Won't  her  man  hev  to  stan'  round 
lively  ef  her  dander  gets  up  ?  I  tell  you,  Beckey, '  he  used 
to  say,  'ef  he  don't  jest  toe  the  line  to  a  dotted  t,  she'll 
skin  the  poor  coot.  I  kin  see  her  now,'  says  he,  'a-deaconin' 
and  a-readin'  it  off  to  him.' 

"  'Well,'  says  I,  'there's  one  thing — she  won't  fret  her 
gizzard  clean  out  of  her  ef  she  don't  git  married,  as  some 
gals  I  knows  on,  and  that  is  some  comfort,  anyhow.' 

"  'All  right,  Becky/  says  he,  'but  sich  gals  ez  Josie, 
they'll  either  marry  some  shiftless  scaly  gump  that  comes 
gallivantin'  an'  honeyfuglin'  round  'em,  that  they  don't 
really  care  a  bung-town  for,  'cause  they  don't  want  ter  be 
old  maids,  and  'cause  they  want  a  man  to  boss  'round ;  or 
else  they'll  get  on  a  new  bent,  and  come  and  knuckle  all 
under  to  some  strappin',  big,  bullyin'  feller,  who'll  tame 
'em  down  like  a  cosset-lamb.' 

"  'Well,  then,'  thinks  I,  'she'd  best  lay  out  to  git  along 
without  marryin'.'  And  so  I  told  her  father  afore  he 
died ;  and  when  a  gal  gits  to  be  twenty-eight  and  can  bait 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  239 

her  hook  with  such  a  fortune  as  Josie,  and  hain't  had  any 
bite,  she'd  better  stop  fishin'." 

Mrs.  Elmore  said  nothing,  and  the  old  lady  remarking 
that  she  was  " clean  tuckered  out,"  and  solacing  herself 
with  a  pinch  of  snuff,  went  upstairs  to  bed,  and  the  com 
pany  heard  a  few  blasts  as  from  a  distant  foghorn,  as  she 
struck  the  keynote  of  the  nasal  music  that  usually  soothed 
her  slumbers. 

The  professor  had  no  opportunity  to  speak  with  Miss 
Newell  till  her  guests  were  taking  their  departure.  Then 
he  handed  her  the  list  of  books  without  a  word  of  explana 
tion,  as  he  bade  her  good-night. 

Exactly  at  the  end  of  another  fortnight  he  found  an 
other  note  upon  the  desk  of  his  recitation  room,  placed 
there,  perhaps,  to  escape  the  all-seeing  eyes  of  the  gossipy 
postmistress : 

"Miss  Newell 's  compliments  to  Professor  Moors.  Would  he  be 
so  kind  as  to  allow  her  to  be  the  companion  of  one  of  his  'stupid, 
lonesome'  walks?  She  wishes  to  say  something  particular  to  him. 
She  will  be  at  home  after  ten  o'clock  every  day  this  week." 

The  professor  waited  several  days,  and  it  was  not  till 
late  Saturday  afternoon  that  he  rang  Miss  Newell 's  door 
bell.  She  answered  it  herself,  and  left  him  standing  for 
a  moment  in  the  hall,  while  she  made  ready  to  accompany 
him.  As  they  started  out,  he  almost  fancied  he  heard  Mrs. 
Elmore 's  merry  laugh  within.  He  might  have  been  mis 
taken.  They  walked  rapidly.  Each  repeatedly  accused  the 
other  of  trying  to  keep  ahead.  Then  they  would  slacken 
their  pace  for  a  moment,  but  it  was  sure  to  accelerate  again 
till  one  or  the  other  proposed  to  go  slower.  On  and  on 
they  walked  along  the  icy  glenroad,  till  the  sun  went  down, 
and  the  bright,  early  stars  of  a  midwinter  night  came  out. 

"We  will  turn  back,  Miss  Newell,  whenever  you  wish," 
he  had  said,  repeatedly,  and  she  had  always  answered : 


240       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

"I  am  not  at  all  tired.  Walk  just  as  far  as  you  would 
without  me." 

By  following  the  glen  round  a  curve  of  several  miles, 
they  could  reach  home  by  an  unfrequented  road  over  the 
hill  past  the  spring  and  the  old  hotel,  without  any  sudden 
turn  about,  and  this  course  they  both  at  last  seemed  re 
solved  upon.  Their  talk  was  mainly  of  objects  by  the  way, 
the  club,  and  other  indifferent  topics.  Each  felt  that  the 
other  was  slightly  constrained  and  uninteresting,  though 
the  conversation  was  not  allowed  to  flag  for  an  instant: 
As  they  were  entering  the  village,  Miss  Newell  suddenly 
asked: 

' '  Why  did  you  choose  for  me  only  stories  of  proud  women 
becoming  broken-hearted  ? ' ' 

"It  was  purely  accidental,"  he  said  quickly.  "I  did 
not  notice  it  till  it  was  too  late,  or  I  would  have  changed 
the  list.  I  found  no  chance  to  speak  of  it  that  evening." 

"You  surely  do  not  go  so  far,"  asked  she,  "as  to  think 
that  women  need  to  be  schooled  by  such  terrible  experi 
ence,  to  teach  them  a  proper  sense  of  their  dependence? 
You  have  not  pointed  me  to  your  ideal  of  woman's  life?" 

"By  no  means,"  he  replied. 

"I  should  prefer  to  know  more  about  the  ideal  men  of 
romance,"  she  said,  "so  I  have  asked  Mrs.  Elmore  to  select 
some  reading  for  me.  I  want  more  action.  I  admire  force, 
energy.  That  is  why  I  like  Carlyle.  I  am  coming  to  be 
lieve  in  work,  perhaps,  as  much  as  you.  But  purely<seden- 
tary,  mental  work  would  be  dull  to  me,  I  fear.  Do  you 
not  feel  it  so?" 

"I  do  not  find  it  dull,  though,  of  course,  it  is  often  ex 
hausting,"  he  replied. 

They  had  reached  Miss  Newell 's  gate  now,  and,  late  as  it 
was,  and  supperless  as  they  both  were,  she  paused  and 
said: 

"You  spoke  of  being  lonesome,  and  well  you  might, 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  241 

shut  up  in  that  desolate  room  of  yours.  I  know  how  to 
pity  any  one  who  suffers  so,  and  have  often  felt,  too,  that 
you  were  distressed  by  some  private  grief  or  misfortune. 
Concealed  sorrow,  you  know,  sickens  and  kills.  You  need 
a  confidant  and  an  adviser.  As  the  latter,  please  let  me 
say,  look  to  your  health.  Do  not  work  so  hard.  Be  out- 
of-doors  more.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  walk  again — to 
play  whist  with  you  some  night ;  still  more,  to  hear  any  of 
your  music. ' ' 

She  spoke  very  firmly  and  deliberately,  and  still  lin 
gered. 

The  professor  tried  to  conceal  his  confusion,  and  could 
only  reply : 

"I  shall  be  happy  to  call  again,  but  it  is  so  late  I  must 
really  bid  you  good-night  now. ' ' 

She  turned  away  suddenly,  and  the  professor  heard  the 
gate  close  with  great  force  as  he  walked  off  rapidly  toward 
his  room. 

"Weeks  passed  again.  Miss  Newell's  grandmother  had 
taken  her  departure,  and  Mrs.  Elmore,  who  was  almost  her 
only  intimate  friend,  had  gone  to  the  city.  Her  brother's 
wedding  had  just  been  celebrated,  but  Miss  Newell  still  re 
mained  in  Springtown.  The  professor,  perhaps,  did  not 
realize  how  lonely  she  felt;  at  any  rate  he  did  not  call. 
The  first  of  April  came,  and  with  it  another  note  in  a  hand 
that  he  did  not  recognize.  It  was  written  with  a  pencil, 
was  slightly  soiled  and  crumpled,  and  many  words  and 
phrases  were  underscored.  It  read  as  follows: 

MY  DEAR  PROFESSOR  MOORS: 

I  trust  and  respect  you  so  much  that  I  venture  to  write  what 
perhaps  no  woman  ever  wrote  to  a  man,  and  my  only  excuse  is  that 
I  believe  no  such  circumstances  ever  existed  before.  I  love  you  more 
and  more  every  day  in  spite  of  myself.  What  can  I  do  except  to  say, 
as  Rosalind  told  poor  Orlando,  "I  am  yours  if  you  will  marry  me." 
You  need  a  wife  and  a  home.  Perhaps  it  is  for  me  to  say,  first, 
that  any  differences  which  may  exist  in  our  circumstances  should  not 
be  a  barrier  to  our  love. 

If  your  heart  does  not  tell  you  who  wrote  this,  know  that  it  is 


242       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

from  one  who  would  celebrate  leap-year  day,  which  is  also  her  birth 
day,  in  a  way  as  rare  as  that  event.    In  great  suspense, 

Devotedly  yours, 
ALPHA. 

P.  S. — Please  destroy  this  note.  I  have  now  carried  it  a  month 
•without  daring  to  send  it. 

The  professor  read  the  note  again  and  again.  He  could 
not  think  it  a  joke,  though  received  upon  All  Fools'  day, 
and  his  suspicions  at  once  pointed  to  the  true  source  of  it. 
He  attempted  no  reply  for  several  days,  while  his  students 
found  occasion  for  some  amusement  in  his  fits  of  abstraction 
in  the  classroom,  and  some  of  the  bolder  ones  ventured  to 
give  incoherent  answers,  while  he  gazed  out  of  the  window, 
till  a  suppressed  burst  of  merriment  would  recall  his 
thoughts  to  the  work  in  hand. 

The  class  in  Chaucer  became  uncontrollable,  and  he  quite 
lost  his  temper,  when  one  day  he  said  to  a  young  lady  stu 
dent:  "  Please  begin — 

'When  that  Aprille  with  his  shoures  soote 

The  drought  of  March  hath  perced  to  the  roote>' 

and  scan  the  first  twenty  lines,  Miss — Newell. ' ' 

Within  the  next  week  he  wrote,  and  afterward  destroyed, 
many  replies,  until  at  last  the  following  was  written,  and, 
a  few  days  later,  sent : 

MY  GOOD  FRIEND  Miss  NEWELL: 

I  received  on  April  1st  an  anonymous  note,  which  I  believe  to  have 
been  from  you,  and  the  contents  of  which  I  believe  to  be  as  sincerely 
meant  as  they  were  frankly  spoken.  I  need  scarcely  say  that  your 
confidence  shall  be  forever  sacredly  kept.  But  I  ought  now,  by  every 
consideration,  to  be  no  less  plain  in  reply.  If  I  have  in  any  way 
become  an  object  of  your  pity,  I  have  at  least  never  sought  to  win 
your  love,  nor  consciously  given  you  any  right  to  fancy  that  I  loved 
you.  But  whatever  my  feelings  may  be,  I  am  compelled  to  believe 
that  the  love  you  express  is  too  selfish  and  shallow,  as  it  is  evidently 
too  sudden,  to  sanction  the  great  experiment  of  life.  You  are  candid 
enough  to  say  I  need  a  wife.  I  do  feel  more  deeply  day  by  day  the 
need  of  companionship  and  sympathy  in  my  own  lines  of  interest — 
in  fine,  of  a  true  helpmeet.  But  my  ideal  of  wedlock  is,  I  hope,  so 
high  that  I  never  should  dare  to  propose  marriage  from  such  or  any 
other  motives  of  convenience  or  necessity.  I  will  venture  only  to 


A  LEAP-YEAE  ROMANCE  243 

remind  you  that  there  are  thousands  in  the  world  who  would  eagerly 
seek  what  I  am  and  always  shall  be  so  very  old-fashioned  as  to 
refuse — wives  who  prefer  to  adorn  social  or  public  life  rather  than 
the  domestic  circle,  and  who  bring  to  it  pride  and  wealth  rather  than 
true  and  tender  love,  which  alone  can  give  happy  and  sweet-tempered 
content  and  satisfaction  to  the  humblest  home. 

Yours  truly  and  sincerely, 
OMEGA. 

Miss  Newell 's  daily  walks  had  become  very  irregular 
during  the  dreary  days  of  real  suspense  before  she  received 
this  letter;  sometimes  they  were  omitted,  and,  when  taken, 
were  over  unfrequented  roads  or  during  the  hours  when 
she  knew  the  professor  would  be  engaged  at  the  college. 
When  it  came  at  last,  she  hastened  to  lock  herself  into  her 
room,  unheated  though  it  chanced  to  be,  before  she  opened 
it,  and  even  then  she  paused,  looked  toward  all  the  corners 
of  the  room,  listened  till  she  could  hear  her  own  heart  beat, 
then  took  it  from  the  envelope  and  resolutely  tried  to  calm 
herself  as  she  turned  it  over  in  her  hand  and  walked  to 
and  fro.  At  last  she  spread  it  out  upon  the  standing-desk 
where  she  generally  studied,  and  read  it  carefully,  sentence 
by  sentence,  trying  to  catch  the  full  import  of  every  clause 
as  she  proceeded.  When  she  had  done,  and  as  she  was 
slowly  and  mechanically  folding  it,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her  own  face  in  the  mirror  which  had  always  hung  before 
the  desk.  The  cheeks  of  the  image  she  saw  there  were  so 
blanched,  the  lips  so  firmly  compressed,  the  brow  so  rigid, 
the  face  so  hard  and  stern,  that  she  started  back  with  sud 
den  dismay  at  a  visage  so  old  and  haggard.  The  air  seemed 
to  grow  close,  and  there  was  such  a  heaviness  now  at  her 
heart  that  she  staggered,  clutching  wildly  at  the  nearest 
support,  and  bringing  down  the  case  of  geological  speci 
mens — stones,  skeleton,  and  all — bruising  herself  severely 
by  falling  upon  them.  She  did  not  faint,  but  before  she 
could  rise  both  her  servants  were  knocking  at  the  door  in 
great  alarm  to  know  what  had  happened.  She  left  them 
to  collect  the  treasures  which  hitherto  no  hand  but  her  own 


244       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

had  been  allowed  to  touch,  and  arrayed  herself,  scarcely 
knowing  what  she  did,  and  started  out  for  a  walk. 

She  had  not  gone  so  far  since  the  long  walk  with  the 
professor,  and  tea  was  waiting  when  she  returned.  Her 
little  brother  had  already  climbed  into  his  chair  and  was 
waiting  very  impatiently.  He  checked  his  clamor  suddenly 
when  she  appeared,  looking  long  and  earnestly  in  her  face, 
tried  to  steady  his  manly  little  lip  and  keep  back  the  rising 
tears,  but  soon  began  to  cry  aloud.  "  Josie  don't  care  for 
little  brother,  or  she  would  not  walk  so  far  off,  and  look  so 
tired  and  so  sorry/'  was  the  only  articulate  form  of  his 
grief. 

"Yes,  Josie  does  love  little  brother,  and  will  make  him 
happy, "  she  said,  impulsively  clasping  him  in  her  arms 
and  finding  relief  at  last  in  mingling  her  tears  with  his. 
"But  Josie  is  all  alone  now,  and  little  brother  must  love 
her,  too." 

The  little  fellow  was  greatly  astonished  at  this  sudden 
burst  of  tenderness,  and  still  more  so  when  his  sister  did 
not  call  Kate,  as  was  her  wont,  but  took  him  up  to  bed  her 
self  and  sat  at  his  bedside  till  he  fell  asleep. 

Sunday  came,  and  again  Miss  Newell  found  herself  lis 
tening  to  the  crispy  accents  of  the  German  professor,  whose 
turn  it  chanced  to  be  to  officiate  in  the  college  chapel.  He 
was  so  skeptical,  and  withal  so  dry  and  philosophical,  that 
he  was  far  from  popular.  But  for  once  he  had  left  his  too 
critical  methods,  and  chosen  a  large,  sympathetic  theme. 
He  spoke  of  the  corn  of  wheat  falling  into  the  ground  and 
dying  that  it  might  bring  forth  much  fruit,  and  of  the 
blessings  that  attended  self -sacrifice. 

"We  are  seldom  called  upon,"  the  speaker  said,  "to  die 
for  a  good  cause  as  thousands  have  been  in  the  past.  Ours 
is  the  harder  duty  of  living  daily  and  hourly  for  those  ob 
jects  which  are  dearer  than  life.  The  Christ  of  our  day 
would  have  toiled  to  the  weary  end  of  a  long  life.  When 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  245 

the  heart  and  the  mind  have  once  made  the  great  surrender 
to  those  objects  which  are  higher  and  larger  and  more 
glorious  than  they,  there  comes  a  sweetness,  a  strength, 
and  a  light,  unknown  before.  To  live  for  self  is  suicide  of 
all  that  is  best  in  us.  Look  at  the  faith  of  one  fourth  of  the 
whole  race,  that  annihilation,  absolute  and  complete,  is  the 
supreme  good  to  be  always  toiled  and  prayed  for.  For 
them,  this  hidden  secret  sense,  that  urges  them  to  'some 
unknown  good,'  is  strong  enough  to  be  followed  against 
the  current  of  every  other  known  motive,  wealth,  fame, 
power,  or  happiness,  here  or  hereafter.  The  great  lesson 
is,  that  man's  use  to  men  is  all,  his  credit  with  them  noth 
ing." 

Miss  Newell  followed  the  speaker  intently.  As  she 
walked  slowly  home  she  felt  in  her  breast  a  sentiment  of 
restfulness  and  peace,  that  had  been  a  stranger  there  for 
many  a  day,  and  which  so  transfused  her  very  slumbers 
that  night  that  she  awoke  in  the  morning  with  a  strong 
sense  that  something  unremembered  had  just  faded  from 
her  soul  too  transcendently  sweet  to  be  ever  thought  or 
felt  again,  and  some  days  passed  before  the  old  bitterness 
gradually  began  to  return. 

Meanwhile  the  professor  had  been  expecting  an  angry 
reply,  but  two  weeks  passed  and  he  heard  nothing.  At 
length  he  learned  that  Miss  Newell  had  gone  to  the  city 
very  soon  after  the  date  of  his  note.  "She  is  with  Mrs.- 
Elmore,"  he  said  to  himself,  "and  will,  doubtless,  find  in 
her  circle  suitors  more  to  her  mind,  who  will  gladly  fall 
at  her  feet  and  offer  far  higher  and  more  congenial  stations 
than  I  can  ever  hope  for.  She  is  likely  enough  already 
ashamed  of  her  flitting  interest  in  me,  associated  as  it  was 
with  an  ill-judged  avowal,  which  must,  upon  mature  reflec 
tion,  injure  her  self-respect  as  deeply  as  my  perhaps  too 
harsh  reply  must  have  humiliated  her  pride.  The  village 
gossips,  then,  are  right.  Mrs.  Elmore  is  an  intriguing,  mer- 


246       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

cenary  matchmaker,  who  has  acquired  a  morbid,  almost  in 
sane,  passion  for  trafficking  in  affection,  and  Miss  Newell 
is  heartless  enough  deliberately  to  place  herself  in  such 
hands,  because  the  time  has  come  when  she  feels  the  need 
of  a  home." 

With  such  thoughts  the  professor  applied  himself  with 
renewed  energy  to  the  work  of  his  chosen  field,  while  spring 
passed  and  the  busy  season  of  commencement  came  on 
apace.  Mrs.  Elmore  had  now  returned  alone  to  her  sum 
mer  home,  while  Miss  Newell's  house  still  remained  closed 
and  billeted  " For  sale." 

One  day,  in  glancing  over  the  morning  papers  in  the  col 
lege  reading-room,  Professor  Moors  noticed  the  following 
advertisement : 

"Miss  Josephine  Newell's  Collegiate  Institute  for  Young  Ladies 
will  be  opened  in  the  fall  on  the  completion  of  the  new  buildings, 
to  all  who  pass  the  required  examination.  A  full  corps  of  competent 
instructors  has  been  engaged,  who  will  arrange  a  new  advanced  and 
thorough  course.  Many  special  city  privileges  have  been  secured 
for  the  pupils,  and  the  endowment  is  such  that  free  tuition  is  offered 
for  the  first  year.  The  patronage  of  all  who  desire  a  higher  culture 
for  women  is  respectfully  solicited. " 

His  interest  was  at  once  so  strongly  aroused  by  what  he 
read  that  he  hastily  determined,  though  not  without  many 
misgivings,  to  call  on  Mrs.  Elmore  and  learn  more  about  it. 
As  he  waited  in  her  parlor  lie  reflected  that  he  must  be 
wary  and  not  rouse  any  suspicion  by  displaying  more  than 
an  educator 's  interest  in  a  new  scheme.  He  would  bring  it 
in  incidentally.  Besides,  if  she  suspected  any  curiosity  on 
his  part,  it  would  be  like  her  to  refuse  to  gratify  it. 

But  such  thoughts  were  cut  short  as  she  entered  the  room 
and  began  abruptly:  "What  have  you  Springtown  people 
been  doing  to  drive  Miss  Newell  away?  I  left  her  re 
markably  happy  and  contented,  and  on  my  return  I  find 
that  she  has  fled  away  as  if  in  a  panic,  without  a  single- 
adieu  to  her  friends  here,  and  has  embarked  all  her  prop- 


A  LEAP-YEAK  ROMANCE  247 

erty  in  a  new-fangled  educational  scheme.  I  always  thought 
she  had  too  level  a  business  head  to  run  any  such  risk.  I 
must  find  out  more  about  it." 

"You  have  not  seen  her,  then,  in  the  city?"  he  asked. 

"No,  indeed!"  she  replied.  "I  heard  of  her  enterprise, 
but  she  did  not  call,  and,  of  course,  I  could  not  run  after 
her." 

' '  I  suppose  she  will  make  a  veritable  Lady  Psyche  or  an 
Ida, ' '  said  the  professor,  who,  although  he  felt  that  he  was 
being  watched,  could  not  repress  a  slight  inflection  of  con 
tempt. 

"That  can  hardly  be  known  till  some  admirer  has  cour 
age  enough  to  woo  her,"  said  Mrs.  Elmore,  so  innocently 
that  Professor  Moors  felt  that  his  curiosity  had  not  be 
trayed  him,  and  he  might  further  indulge  with  safety. 

"  I  do  not  think, ' '  she  added,  very  gravely, ' l  that  she  will 
ever  become  a  regular  man-hater.  She  has  too  much  senti 
ment  and  sense.  Besides,  she  has  chosen  for  herself  the 
department  of  romantic  fiction !  She  says,  I  am  told,  that 
her  school  is  designed  to  make  women  first,  ladies  after 
ward." 

"But,"  he  asked,  "you  do  not  think  she  can  succeed 
with  her  new  method,  and  quite  without  experience,  too?" 

"I  think  she  will  use  up  all  her  substance  and  die  in 
the  attempt  rather  than  fail,"  said  Mrs.  Elmore,  warmly. 
"You  do  not  know  her.  "When  she  has  once  set  her  mind 
upon  an  object,  obstacles  seem  only  to  rouse  her  into  new 
action.  Perseverance  is  the  chief  trait  of  her  character. 
So  no  measure  of  success  would  surprise  me." 

"The  higher  education  of  woman,"  said  the  professor, 
abstractedly,  "is  certainly  an  object  worthy  the  devotion 
of  the  wisest  and  best,  but  she  will  need  to  husband  all  her 
resources  to  effect  any  reforms  in  the  direction  I  presume 
she  intends." 

"She  will  learn  lessons  of  more  value  than  any  she  will 


248       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

be  able  to  t each  others, ' '  Mrs.  Elmore  replied.  ' '  I  think  she 
will  be  changed  herself  in  her  work  far  more  than  she  will 
change  the  inveterate  prejudices  she  must  encounter  where 
She  is." 

The  professor  was  heartily  glad  to  find  himself  so  far 
mistaken  in  his  judgment  of  Miss  Newell,  and  now  could 
not  avoid  a  vague  suspicion  of  a  possible  cause  for  her 
sudden  enterprise  which  he  did  not  allow  himself  to  en 
tertain,  and  reproached  himself  for  even  fancying. 

A  year  passed  away,  and  brought  to  Professor  Moors  all 
the  weary,  uneventful  round  of  duties  which  fill  up  a 
teacher's  life  so  often  with  only  faint-heartedness  and 
petty,  oppressive  care.  But  he  succeeded  at  last,  with  a 
purer  ambition  and  a  more  resolute  will  than  ever  before, 
in  so  absorbing  himself  in  the  work  of  his  chosen  field 
that  a  fresh  and  generous  enthusiasm,  hitherto  unfelt,  was 
opening  new  sources  of  conscious  power  and  enjoyment. 
He  became  more  and  more  firmly  wedded  to  his  daily  tasks. 
His  teaching  was  so  successful,  and  the  recognition  of  his 
contributions  to  his  chosen  department  was  so  general  and 
hearty,  and  his  judgment  on  all  educational  matters  so 
mature  and  well  informed,  that  the  trustees  at  their  annual 
meeting,  though  not  without  much  opposition  from  the 
older  members  of  the  board  on  account  of  his  youth,  at  last 
voted  to  confer  on  him  the  newly-vacated  position  of  vice- 
president,  which,  on  account  of  the  age  and  infirmity  of 
the  president,  was  the  virtual  head  of  the  college. 

Meanwhile,  with  her  helpless  mother  and  little  brother, 
Miss  Newell  had  taken  up  her  abode  in  the  bustling  little 
city  of  Ashton,  near  to  the  scene  of  her  newly-chosen  labors. 
Here  her  crotchety,  petulant  old  grandmother  had  for 
years  dwelt  alone  in  her  own  house  with  her  servants,  not 
far  from  the  residence  of  her  son 's  family.  She  had  prom 
ised  to  reward  one  after  another  of  her  relatives  by  a  gen 
erous  remembrance  in  her  will,  if  they  would  live  with  her; 


A  LEAP-YEAK  EOMANCE  249 

and  several  of  them  had  made  the  attempt,  but  she  was  so 
absolute  and  exacting,  and  so  bad-tempered,  that  they  had 
all  left  her  to  a  solitude  which  she  had  slowly  come  to  en 
joy,  till  now  the  gathering  infirmities  of  years  had  brought 
a  growing  sense  of  helplessness.  She  had  always  abused 
Josie's  mother — now  as  a  soft-hearted,  weak-minded  thing, 
whom  her  son  was  impulsive  enough  to  marry  out  of  sheer 
pity ;  now  as  a  wily,  scheming  upstart,  who  had  woven  her 
subtle  charms  about  her  husband 's  heart  with  a  cunning  in 
spired  by  ambition,  not  by  love.  Still  Josie  had  always 
been  her  favorite  grandchild.  The  old  lady  now  felt  self 
ishly  glad  that  she  did  not  seem  disposed  to  marry,  and 
glad  that  her  new  enterprise  had  brought  her,  even  with 
her  detested  invalid  mother,  to  be  an  inmate  of  the  same 
house  with  her. 

Miss  Newell  found  herself  living  in  a  new  world.  It  was 
not  the  ideal  life  her  fancy  had  so  often  painted.  It  was 
so  crowded  with  occupations  that  she  had  little  time  at 
first  to  indulge  in  feelings  of  either  joy  or  regret.  Her 
heart  beat  high  with  aspiration  and  hope.  If  love  was 
denied  her,  she  was  about  to  find  more  than  it  could  give 
in  a  new  mission  broad  as  philanthropy  itself,  and  high  and 
noble  as  a  purely  unselfish  devotion  could  make  it.  She 
was  surprised  at  her  own  executive  energy  and  dispatch. 
The  buildings  rose  rapidly.  The  design,  the  arrangement 
of  rooms  and  grounds,  all  was  her  own.  She  figured  out 
every  night  an  approximate  estimate  of  the  expenses  of 
the  day  in  labor  and  material,  interested  prominent  citi 
zens  to  subscribe  for  a  scholarship  and  prize  fund,  and 
found  time  to  visit  many  other  institutions  large  and  small, 
and  to  gain  some  insight  into  methods  of  instruction  and 
administration,  besides  devoting  a  stated  portion  of  each 
day  to  special  preparation  in  her  own  line  of  teaching. 
The  city  council  had  been  induced  to  remit  her  municipal 


250       BECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

taxes  for  the  first  year,  and  even  the  school  board  were 
at  first  disposed  to  make  friendly  advances. 

At  last  all  things  were  ready,  and  the  institute  was 
thrown  open  to  students.  Three  quarters  of  the  large  bevy 
of  young  ladies  who  presented  themselves  succeeded  in 
passing  the  required  examination,  the  standard  of  which, 
though  it  was  held  ostentatiously  high  in  the  prospectus, 
it  was  thought  best  quietly  to  lower,  like  a  leaping-pole  in 
a  circus-ring,  which  is  ducked  dexterously  down  under  the 
feet  of  the  clumsiest  athlete,  and  then  instantly  raised 
higher  than  ever.  All  the  exercises  of  dedication  and  in 
auguration  were  postponed  until  the  end  of  the  academ 
ic  year,  and  a  sort  of  scholastic  quiet  gradually  began  to 
pervade  the  premises.  All  the  while,  with  rare  administra 
tive  tact,  Miss  Newell  was  at  work  collecting  and  investing 
funds,  animating  her  band  of  teachers  with  her  own  spirit, 
personally  soliciting  patronage,  and  everywhere  directing 
improvements,  so  that  she  found  time  for  but  three  hours 
per  week  of  actual  classroom  work. 

But  now  one  of  those  strange  and  startling  tragedies  of 
domestic  life,  which  often  seem  too  sudden  and  phenomenal 
for  the  uses  of  fiction,  came  like  a  stunning  volcanic  explo 
sion,  which  scatters  its  scorching  debris  over  newly-mown 
but  fertile  and  reblooming  acres.  Miss  Newell 's  mother 
had  once  been  a  woman  of  much  intelligence  and  breadth 
of  sympathy,  but  affliction,  confirmed  moodiness,  and  fan 
cied  neglect,  had  slowly  led  her  from  easy-going,  liberal 
views  upon  religious  matters  first  to  absolute  and  implicit 
faith  in  the  letter  of  Scripture,  and  then  to  a  sterner  and 
severer  subjection  of  her  reason  to  the  captious  logic  of 
medieval  interpretations.  The  good  women  of  the  Presby 
terian  Church  in  Springtown,  who  had  often  held  their 
sewing-circles  at  Miss  Newell's  for  her  mother's  accommo 
dation,  were  sometimes  thrilled  by  the  impassioned  fervor 
with  which  her  mother  applied  her  favorite  denunciatory 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  251 

texts  to  some  of  their  commonly  sanctioned  practices  and 
amusements.  The  vigorous  austerity  of  Puritanism  was 
the  form  of  life  contemplated  by  the  Bible  she  read.  Her 
creed  continued  to  grow  narrow  as  her  heart  grew  cold, 
till  at  length  all  her  thoughts  centered  about  the  doctrine 
of  the  depravity  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  awful  hazard 
of  eternal  despair  which  encompasses  every  soul.  She 
loved  more  and  more  the  solitude  of  her  own  room.  Her 
gloomy,  brooding  self-consciousness  could  be  broken  only 
momentarily  by  the  society  of  friends  or  by  riding  abroad. 
At  length  the  sense  of  impending  doom  of  which  she  lost 
no  opportunity  to  warn  others  with  grim  vehemence,  as 
they  gradually  left  her  to  her  own  musings,  she  began  to 
feel  for  herself.  When  she  was  moved  to  Ashton  she 
seemed  brighter  for  a  time,  but  at  length  shut  herself  up 
in  her  own  room  to  escape  the  occasional  outbursts  of  the 
temper  of  her  mother-in-law,  and  would  allow  no  one  to 
enter  save  her  children. 

One  evening,  to  celebrate  the  close  of  the  winter's  term, 
Miss  Newell  had  prepared,  with  her  grandmother's  reluc 
tant  consent,  to  entertain  a  select  number  of  her  friends 
and  patrons.  The  guests  had  assembled,  and  were  chat 
ting  in  the  parlor,  while  in  the  dining-room  Miss  Newell 
was  herself  superintending  the  preparation  of  the  table. 
Wine  was  standing  upon  the  sideboard,  and  some  one  had 
struck  up  a  merry  air  upon  the  old  piano.  Suddenly  Miss 
Newell's  mother  appeared  in  the  parlor  doorway,  and  gazed 
about  with  a  glance  so  fierce  and  frowning  that  to  those 
who  noted  her  she  seemed  like  the  sudden  apparition  of  a 
horrible  specter.  In  an  instant,  and  without  a  word,  she 
hobbled  unaided  to  the  dining-room. 

"Why,  mother, "  exclaimed  Miss  Newell,  in  great  aston 
ishment,  "how  in  the  world  did  you  get  downstairs?  We 
said  nothing  to  you  about  it,  because  we  feared  it  would 


252       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

distress  you.  You  shall  stay  now,  and  have  a  seat  here 
next  to  me." 

"Josephine,  Josephine !"  cried  her  mother,  aloud,  her 
rancor  against  happiness  roused  almost  to  frenzy.  "In 
there  you  have  made  me  hear  the  sound  of  the  dance.  This 
you  have  made  a  room  for  gluttons  and  wine-bibbers, ' '  she 
continued,  slowly  and  more  loudly  than  before.  "I  have 
raised  up  children,  and  they  have  rebelled  against  me. 
You  have  brought  down  my  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to 
the  grave.  Would  to  God  that  you  had  never  been  born ! ' ' 

Mortified  and  really  alarmed  at  the  unusual  violence  of 
these  exclamations,  Miss  Newell  could  only  entreat  her  to 
calm  herself  and  speak  lower. 

"Never!"  she  shouted.  "I  speak  the  still  small  voice  of 
conscience  and  of  God — a  voice  you  must  hear  again  at 
the  last  great  day.  Help  me  to  my  room  now, ' '  she  added, 
a  new  and  sudden  purpose  changing  her  voice  and  man 
ner.  "There  you  cannot  hinder  me  from  praying  God  to 
pluck  your  soul  as  a  brand  from  the  burning.  Then  I 
shall  have  finished  my  duty  toward  you." 

She  was  aided  upstairs,  and  the  company  had  just  taken 
their  seats  about  the  table,  awkwardly  trying  to  resume 
their  tone  after  the  embarrassing  incident,  when  a  heavy, 
falling  sound  was  heard  overhead.  Instantly  every  face 
took  on  a  look  of  terror,  and,  without  a  spoken  word,  the 
thrill  of  a  nameless  fear  chilled  every  heart,  and  Miss  New 
ell,  her  grandmother,  and  several  of  the  more  familiar 
guests,  hastened  to  the  invalid's  room.  It  was  locked,  and 
there  was  no  answer  to  their  call.  Miss  Newell  was  the 
first  to  pass  into  an  adjoining  chamber,  out  upon  an  open 
porch,  then  into  her  mother's  room.  There,  upon  her 
knees,  her  body  resting  upon  the  sofa,  lay  her  mother, 
already  dead,  the  blood  streaming  from  a  wound  in  her 
temple. 

Miss  Newell  had  come  to  feel  an  increased  sense  of 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  253 

safety  in  her  solitary  mode  of  life  in  keeping  a  tiny  pistol, 
an  old  present  from  her  brother,  and  scarcely  larger  than 
her  little  finger,  in  the  drawer  of  the  stand  which  stood  at 
her  hedside,  and  it  was  this  her  mother  had  used,  holding 
it  so  close  to  her  head  'that  no  report  had  been  heard,  and 
the  entire  charge  had  entered  her  brain.  When  the  others 
entered  the  chamber  of  death,  there  sat  Miss  Newell  upon 
the  floor,  holding  her  mother's  head  in  her  lap,  wiping 
away  the  oozing  blood,  and  kissing  the  pale  lips  and  up 
turned  eyes  whereon  now  rested  a  sweet,  placid  smile,  such 
as  in  happier  days,  long  and  weary  years  ago,  had  shed 
joy  upon  her  childhood.  In  the  wild  insanity  of  sudden 
grief,  the  daughter  called  the  mother  by  every  endearing 
name,  while  friends  gathered  around  speechless  and  power 
less  to  render  aid  or  comfort.  But  it  was  only  for  a  mo 
ment.  The  grandmother  had  made  her  way  to  the  scene, 
and  her  lamentations  were  so  abandoned  and  uncontrollable 
that  Miss  Newell,  with  a  great  effort  at  self-possession,  at 
last  led  her  away,  to  her  own  chamber,  where  a  long,  cling 
ing  embrace  seemed  to  calm  them  both.  Returning  almost 
immediately  to  the  dreadful  scene  of  death,  upon  which 
strong  men  gazed  an  instant  and  then  turned  away,  cover 
ing  their  eyes  with  their  hands,  Miss  Newell  was  the  first 
to  remember  that  the  law  must  be  satisfied  and  a  coroner's 
jury  summoned,  and  she  withdrew  only  when  nothing 
more  could  be  done. 

When  the  verdict  of  the  jury  was  made  known,  "Died 
from  a  wound  inflicted  by  her  own  hand,"  the  old  lady's 
grief  burst  forth  anew.  i 

"Oh,  deary  me !  deary  me!"  she  wailed.  "Just  to  think 
where  them  that  kills  themselves  goes  to !  I  shall  meet  all 
my  kith  and  kin  on  the  shining  shore  but  her,  and  I  drove 
her  to  it — I  know  I  did!  Oh,  deary,  deary  me!" 

Miss  Newell  listened  some  time  to  such  exclamations,  till 
all  that  was  within  her  rose  in  rebellion,  even  then  in  the 


254       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

hour  of  grief.  "Hush,  grandmother!"  she  said.  "If 
Christ's  love  means  anything,  it  means  hope,  and  comfort, 
and  help  in  this  extremity;  it  must  bring  all  that  these 
words  can  possibly  mean  to  us  now — all  that  we  can  wish 
them  to  mean."  Ever  after  that  the  two  women  seemed  to 
grow  nearer  to  each  other  in  heart,  and  tried  to  inspire  in 
each  other  comfort  and  good  cheer,  though  each  knew  that 
the  other  passed  solitary  hours  of  silent  grief. 

For  Miss  Newell,  too,  a  nameless  horror  seemed  to  per 
vade  the  house.  Ghostly  shapes  flitted  over  her  pillow  at 
night.  She  fancied  scowling,  spectral  faces  peering  in  at 
the  windows.  She  would  start  and  turn  suddenly  about 
before  her  glass  at  night,  imagining  she  saw  vanishing  and 
monstrous  forms,  and  no  effort  of  reason  could  banish  the 
delusion. 

Thus  weeks  wore  away.  Her  school  duties  were  per 
formed  more  and  more  listlessly  and  mechanically;  and  at 
length,  although  spring  was  crowding  all  the  pulses  of  nat 
ural  life  with  its  freshness  and  wondrous  power  and  beauty, 
her  cheeks  continued  to  grow  thin  and  pale. 

At  length  her  little  brother  fell  sick,  and  suddenly,  with 
the  last  melting  snows  of  winter,  his  innocent  spirit  passed 
away.  Then  tears  fell  freely  and  brought  actual  relief. 
Then  the  house  was  swept  of  all  its  strange,  haunting  hor 
rors.  Then  grandmother  and  granddaughter  drew  very 
near  each  other  in  mutual  sympathy  and  love,  and  Miss 
Newell  found  herself  warmed  with  a  new  affection  toward 
the  young,  taking  all  her  pupils  into  her  heart  more  than 
ever  before.  And  when  the  first  year  of  her  school  closed, 
with  the  formal  exercises  of  dedication,  she  sought  rest, 
feeling  that  now  she  could  give  herself  wholly,  and  without 
reserve  or  distraction,  to  her  chosen  work. 

Autumn  came  again,  but,  in  spite  of  her  fresh  hopes  and 
purposes,  Miss  Newell  experienced  a  shrinking  reluctance 
to  enter  upon  the  duties  of  the  opening  term,  which  it  re- 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  255 

quired  no  small  effort  to  overcome.  The  institute  was  full, 
and  she  busied  herself  at  once  in  making  such  changes  and 
introducing  such  new  features  as  the  experiences  of  the 
past  year  and  her  own  summer  musings  had  suggested.  An 
extended  course  of  art-study  was  introduced,  which  had 
been  hitherto  entirely  excluded.  Religious  instruction  was 
given  on  Sundays  by  each  teacher  in  her  own  way,  and  all 
the  pupils  were  required  to  attend,  each  where  she  wished. 
Alternate  studies  were  provided  for  some  of  the  severer 
branches.  A  fortnightly  lecture-course,  to  which  the  town 
was  invited,  was  planned  for  the  benefit  of  the  library. 
Miss  Newell  resigned  many  of  the  official  duties  she  had 
previously  executed,  into  other  hands,  that  she  might  at 
tend  to  the  experiment  of  a  Kindergarten,  which  she  had 
planned  to  hold  in  a  neat  new  building  at  one  extremity  of 
her  grounds — and  also  that  she  might  have  more  time  for 
self -culture. 

But  in  all  that  she  did  or  thought  there  was  a  subdued 
temper,  born  in  part  from  a  sense  of  loss  and  of  fatigue, 
which  she  vainly  tried  to  overcome  by  increased  applica 
tion.  Superior  to  her  sex  in  general,  as  she  fancied  herself, 
she  had,  like  most  women — the  strongest-minded,  perhaps, 
least  of  all — little  power  distinctly  to  realize  or  analyze  her 
own  motives  and  emotions;  else  she  would  have  come  to 
know  ere  this  that  what  had  lately  sustained  and  now  sub 
dued  her  was  a  love  for  Professor  Moors,  which,  shallow 
and  impulsive  as  it  had  been  at  first,  was  daily  absorbing 
more  and  more  of  her  whole  being.  She  was  little  con 
scious  of  the  depth  and  strength  it  had  already  acquired, 
still  less  of  the  futility  of  all  the  resources  she  sought 
against  it.  In  every  hour  of  repose,  when  the  inner  cham 
bers  of  her  soul  were  opened,  there  was  his  image  shrined 
in  the  holiest  place,  idealized  now  by  absence,  and  deferred, 
almost  hopeless  longing.  It  was  this  idealization  of  her 
love  that  supported  and  perhaps  saved  her.  It  had  awak- 


256       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

ened  purer  and  deeper  instincts,  warmed  her  heart  with 
truer  social  sympathies,  and  almost  won  its  cause  against 
old  and  still  pleading  ambitions  before  the  tribunal  of 
reason  and  judgment.  Under  all  the  weight  of  sorrow  she 
had  felt,  far  below  all  the  bustle  and  noise  of  distracting 
cares  and  duties,  against  the  current  of  all  her  conscious 
purposes,  a  new  life  was  springing  forth  which  already 
ministered  peace  and  joy.  It  was  a  life  so  warm  and  glow 
ing  that  it  might  one  day  melt  all  the  ice  of  selfishness  and 
distorted  ideals  and  proud  reserve  which  had  so  long  de 
layed  the  growth  of  more  womanly  sentiments.  Professor* 
Moors  did  not  love  her,  she  said  to  herself.  Mrs.  Elmore, 
in  her  officious  zeal,  had  cruelly  deceived  her;  and  it  was 
not  so  much,  she  was  coming  to  believe,  the  change  of  cir 
cumstances  which  her  brother's  marriage  had  brought,  as 
it  was  mortification  mingled  with  desire  to  escape  from  a 
passion  powerful  only  when  it  had  been  denied,  that  had 
made  Springtown  unendurable  to  her. 

Love  for  him  had  suggested  her  present  vocation,  and  it 
was  sweet  to  feel  that,  impassable  as  was  the  gulf  that 
separated  her  forever  from  him  whose  memory  was  now  so 
fond,  she  was  constantly  drawing  nearer  to  him  in  com 
mon  sympathies,  tastes,  and  pursuits;  for  how  close  are 
those  who  labor  in  the  same  spirit  and  for  the  same  object ! 
She  read  and  reread  his  letter,  so  full  of  cutting  reproach 
and  stern  rejection  of  all  she  could  offer.  The  time  at 
length  came  when  she  must  confess  to  herself  how  utterly 
he  had  come  to  fill  her  heart.  She  was  able  to  find  some 
comfort  in  the  thought  that  she  was  doing  as  he  wished 
her  to  do  whose  destiny  was  to  be  shared  with  him.  How 
much  more  of  a  helpmeet  she  might  be  to  him  now  than  be 
fore!  But  no,  she  never  would  deceive  herself  again  for 
a  moment.  Every  possibility  in  that  direction  must  now 
be  banished  from  her  most  secret  thought  absolutely  and 
forever.  What  remained?  They  were  both  solitary,  both 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  257 

laboring  in  the  same  field,  and  by  mutual  council  and 
advice  might  perhaps  be  of  great  service  to  each  other  and 
to  the  cause  to  which  they  were  both  devoted.  Friendship 
would  be  an  inestimable  boon.  Perhaps  it  was  a  duty  they 
owed  to  others  if  not  to  themselves.  The  purest  feelings, 
she  had  read  from  Comte,  were  those  formed  by  the  high 
est  duties.  Such  was  the  course  of  her  often-disturbed 
thoughts  for  many  days,  till  slowly  all  the  currents  of  her 
soul  set  in  one  channel  toward  this  one  object.  She  felt 
the  need  of  counsel.  She  would  show  Professor  Moors,  at 
least,  that  she  harbored  no  resentment — that  all  her  pride 
had  been  sacrificed ;  and  so  she  wrote  to  him  again,  hastily 
and  impulsively,  as  was  her  nature: 

DEAR  SIR: 

I  wish  to  acknowledge  and  express  my  deep  regret  for  a  note  that 
I  sent  you  many  months  ago.  The  blame  was  all  mine,  and  would 
that  I  could  offer  something  more  than  a  tardy  and  cheap  apology 
for  any  trouble  it  has  caused  you!  I  thought  your  reply  cruel. 
I  was  mistaken.  It  was  just — yes,  kind.  Bitter  as  it  then  seemed, 
I  owe  to  it  I  know  not  how  much  good  that  has  since  come  to  me. 
I  do  not  venture,  in  writing  again,  to  seek  any  answer  to  my  ques 
tions  which  you  then  passed  by.  That  I  have  ceased  to  desire,  but 
I  wish  to  say  that  it  would  now  be,  to  me  at  least,  an  advantage 
and  a  pleasure  if  such  friendship  and  communication  as  our  common 
interests  and  pursuits  suggest  might  be  established  between  us. 
This,  however,  by  every  consideration,  is  for  you  to  say.  Indeed, 
I  should  be  so  chiefly  the  gainer  thereby  that  I  half  suspect  my 
own  motive  in  writing  to  be  selfish  and  wrong.  I  beg  leave  to  sub 
scribe  myself 

Your  friend, 

JOSEPHINE  NEWELL. 

A  postscript  added  an  invitation  to  Professor  Moors  to 
deliver  the  opening  lecture  of  a  free  course  in  Ashton  be 
fore  the  girls  of  the  Newell  Institute,  on  any  subject  that 
he  deemed  suitable. 

The  professor  received  this  note  in  the  midst  of  the  duties 
and  vexations  of  a  new  year  and  a  new  position,  compli 
cated  and  almost  doubled  as  they  were  by  the  disorders  of 
previous  mismanagement  and  present  inefficiency.  He  re 
membered  the  indomitable  perseverance  which  Mrs.  Elmore 


258       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

had  described  as  the  chief  trait  of  Miss  Newell's  character. 
The  latter,  he  reflected,  had  doubtless  thought,  as  he  had, 
of  the  material  advantages  which  might  accrue  from  any 
association  of  their  interests.  Perhaps,  also,  other  experi 
ences,  with  which  eligible  old  bachelors  are  only  too  fa 
miliar,  had  led  him,  as  does  so  many,  to  suspect  matrimonial 
devices  to  be  lurking  under  every  act  and  word  of  all  mar 
riageable  women.  At  any  rate,  he  scribbled  only  a  hasty 
and  ill-considered  reply: 

I  do  not  believe  in  Platonic  love.  As  a  man  of  business,  however, 
I  can  accede  to  both  your  propositions,  provided  only  that  I  can  put 
you  down  for  such  exercises  as  I  see  fit — at  a  Teachers'  Institute 
I  have  planned  here  soon  after  the  date  of  the  lecture. 

Miss  Newell  pondered  long  and  sadly.  All  the  old  grief 
was  fresh  again  in  her  heart.  Could  she  appear  as  a  public 
speaker?  How  strange,  with  the  views  she  had  heard  him 
express,  that  he  should  ask  it !  yet  she  had  often  wished 
for  such  an  opportunity  as  this.  But  could  she  curb  all  her 
old  pride  and  appear  in  Springtown,  before  the  staring 
townsfolk  she  had  always  looted  down  upon,  as  a  common 
teacher  among  teachers,  and  there  make,  perhaps,  the  worst 
appearance  of  any?  What  would  Mrs.  Elmore  think,  and, 
above  all,  how  could  she  stand  before  Professor  Moors 
again,  who  was  always  so  calmly  balanced  and  possessed, 
so  hypercritical,  as  she  fancied?  Perhaps  he  wished  only 
to  study  and  experiment  with  her.  No,  he  could  not  be 
so  utterly  unfeeling.  At  any  rate,  she  would  go,  and  so  it 
was  arranged. 

n 

THE  evening  of  the  lecture  Professor  Moors  called,  and 
walked  with  Miss  Newell  to  the  hall.  The  manner  of  both 
was  constrained,  almost  awkward.  It  was  late,  and  they 
hastened  on  in  silence,  or  speaking  only  upon  incidental 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  259 

topics.  Her  form  was  as  erect  and  her  step  as  lithe  as 
ever,  but  he  observed  new  lines  of  care  upon  her  face. 
Her  brow  seemed  heavy,  and  yet  her  eyes  were  larger  and 
more  lustrous  than  before,  and  the  whole  mold  of  her  regu 
lar,  strongly  Grecian  features  was  mellowed  by  a  new  ex 
pression  of  sadness  and  tenderness. 

The  hall  was  crowded,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
Miss  Newell  found  herself  speaking  in  the  presence  of  a 
large  audience.  The  professor  was  introduced  as  a  distin 
guished  educationist,  whose  views  were  worthy  of  the  most 
thoughtful  consideration  of  all. 

Stepping  to  the  front  of  the  platform,  he  began  in  a  very 
conversational  style,  but  with  perfect  and  deliberate  pos 
session  : 

"By  the  courtesy  of  my  friend,  I  am  to  have  the  honor 
of  presenting  my  views  to-night  on  the  higher  education 
of  women — a  subject  of  such  vast  interest  and  importance 
that  I  shall  venture  to  ask  your  serious  attention  to  a  plain 
and  free  talk,  without  any  of  the  formality  of  the  lecture- 
room.  Woman  is  dishonored  most  by  those  who  pronounce 
Studied  eulogies  upon  her  sex,  and  attempt  to  caress  her 
self-love  by  enumerating  main  and  conspicuous  instances 
which  illustrate  her  virtues.  These  are  as  admirable,  as 
various  in  kind  and  degree,  as  indispensable  to  human  well- 
being  in  every  way,  as  man's;  and  it  is  a  flippancy  born 
of  assumed  superiority  and  of  shallow  ignorance  of  the 
forces  that  make  up  the  world  of  thought  and  action  which 
assumes  that  the  claims  and  needs  of  one  half  the  human 
race  are  to  be  met  either  by  the  dexterous  compliment  of 
the  drawing-room,  or  even  by  smoothing  woman's  way  to 
the  ballot-box  and  to  public  positions.  To  define  her  proper 
station  is  a  practical  problem  so  vast  that  all  theories  thus 
far  are  crudely  and  even  grotesquely  inadequate,  and  its 
solution  must  be  left  to  the  general  course  of  thought  and 
events." 


260       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

His  manner  and  utterance  were  so  graceful  that  the  at 
tention  of  every  one  present  was  fastened  upon  the  speaker. 
Miss  Newell  smiled  and  nodded  her  approval  to  her  first 
assistant,  who  sat  upon  the  platform  by  her  side,  and  who 
smiled  grimly  in  return,  but  whispered,  "I  fear  we  ought 
to  have  learned  more  about  his  views  before  we  invited  him 
here." 

"I  think  we  can  trust  him,"  Miss  Newell  replied. 

"Meanwhile,"  continued  the  speaker,  "let  me  confess 
frankly  at  the  outset  that,  while  I  cannot  believe  with  a 
great  writer  that  she  is  the  best  woman  of  whom  least  is 
said  or  known,  and  while  I  would  not  challenge  her  abstract 
right  to  any  position  or  pursuit,  I  am  ancient  enough  to 
believe  that  the  public  franchise,  that  business  and  most 
professional  careers,  that  even  severe  and  protracted  men 
tal  culture,  are  the  last  and  least  things  that  she  ought  to 
seek,  or  her  friends  to  claim  for  her.  The  home  is  older 
than  the  school.  Piety,  courage,  love  of  truth,  were  first 
taught  there.  Nay,  more:  religion  itself  prospers  or  de 
clines  with  home-life.  When  home  is  made  attractive,  in 
temperance  and  all  the  vices  of  private  indulgence  dimmish 
in  rapid  ratio.  She  is  the  best  woman  who  is  the  best  wife, 
rears  the  best  children,  and  fills  home  with  the  choicest 
fruitions.  The  range  of  emotion  is  deeper  and  wider  than 
that  of  thought,  and  her  wondrous  endowment  of  sensibility 
gives  woman  such  a  breadth  of  experience  that  a  contracted 
sphere  of  life  imposes  little  restraint,  for  no  experience  can 
give  adequate  utterance  to  what  the  meanest  can  feel.  The 
divinest  service  man  can  perform  for  woman  is  to  voice 
her  own  inner  life,  to  reflect  to  her  mind  that  which  fills 
her  heart,  and  which  she  strives  in  vain  to  realize  or  to 
express,  and  what  he  needs  in  her  is  a  heart-culture  that 
shall  give  a  steady  flow  of  pure  and  healthy  sentiment, 
where  he  can  ever  go  for  sympathy  and  comfort,  and  which 
will  save  him  from  a  life  of  dry  intellectuality  or  mechani- 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  261 

cal  routine  or  misanthropy.  I  am  one  of  those  who  be 
lieve  that  the  highest  and  most  perfect  form  of  emotion 
is  a  sense  of  complete  dependence  and  unreserved  self- 
surrender.  The  religious  sentiment — love  for  any  and 
every  worthy  object,  esthetic  susceptibilities  which  respond 
to  beauty  wherever  found,  and  even  conscience — all  are 
but  diverse  forms  of  this  supreme  feeling,  elements  of 
what  the  poet  describes  as  the  soul  of  eternal  womanhood. 
Alas  for  that  man  who  has  not  learned  to  reverence  this 
ideal,  and  thrice  happy  he  who  has  found  it  worthily  en 
shrined  in  some  tender,  loving  heart ! ' ' 

After  this  introduction  the  speaker  proceeded  to  explain 
with  some  detail  what  he  deemed  to  be  the  true  subjects, 
aims,  and  methods,  of  female  education.  His  views  were, 
on  the  whole,  somewhat  abstract,  immature,  and  quite  reac 
tionary,  but  so  earnestly  advocated  that  a  round  of  hearty 
applause  greeted  him  at  the  close. 

"Just  look  at  Miss  Hardtack's  nose!"  giggled  one  of  the 
girls,  as  an  elderly  teacher,  a  tall,  slender  creature,  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  hastened  from  the  stage  the  instant  the 
speaker  ended,  and  began  talking  rapidly,  and  apparently 
in  high  dudgeon,  with  a  middle-aged,  mild-minded  trustee. 
If  such  a  rigid  martinet  as  Miss  Hardtack  was  offended, 
that  was  sufficient  reason  why  all  the  girls  should  like  the 
professor,  and  all  they  could  or  could  not  understand  in 
his  lecture. 

No  one  upon  the  platform,  however,  had  a  word  of  con 
gratulation  for  him,  until  just  as  he  was  hastily  taking  his 
departure  to  catch  the  evening  train  to  Springtown,  Miss 
Newell  came  to  him  while  most  of  the  audience  yet  re 
mained  in  the  hall,  and  smiling  her  approval,  and  placing 
her  hand  in  his,  thanked  him  cordially  for  his  lecture. 

"I  do  not  object  to  most  of  your  views,"  she  said;  "and, 
on  the  whole,  I  am  glad  to  have  them  expressed  here,  though 
some  of  my  friends  will  be  quite  seriously  displeased." 


262       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

She  would  have  added  more,  but  just  then  a  wealthy 
and  influential  old  German,  whose  patronage  Miss  Newell 
had  vainly  tried  to  obtain,  bustled  on  to  the  platform,  and, 
grasping  the  professor's  hand,  said: 

' '  Dat  is  vot  I  calls  goot  sound  doctrine.  You  shall  have 
both  my  girls,  and  I  vill  do  vot  I  can  for  you,  too,  Miss 
Nevell." 

The  professor  expressed  his  gratitude,  and  quickly  left 
the  hall. 

"After  all,"  he  mused,  sadly,  to  himself,  as  he  rode 
homeward,  "so  many  women  seem  made  to  deceive  them 
selves,  and  to  live  and  thrive  upon  delusions,  it  is  not 
strange  if  they  cannot  help  deceiving  others." 

In  a  week  Miss  Newell  was  in  Springtown  again.  As 
she  entered  the  village,  and  &s  the  associations  of  two  years 
ago  were  revived  one  after  another  at  every  step,  she  felt 
all  her  calmness  and  self-control  giving  way  to  a  state  of 
fluttering,  nervous  expectancy,  whether  bodeful  of  good  or 
ill  she  vainly  wondered.  There  was  her  old  home,  which, 
although  now  sold  to  a  stranger,  furniture  and  all,  was  still 
tinoccupiecf.  There  were  the  tin-clad  spires  and  brick  mina 
rets  of  the  main  college-building,  and  the  red  walls  of 
the  dormitories  half  covered  with  American  ivy,  dyed  with 
all  the  hues  of  autumn.  And  there  came  Professor  Moors, 
hastening  to  meet  her  party,  and  to  offer  them  the  best 
entertainment  which  the  hospitality  of  the  villagers  could 
afford. 

"Do  you  stop  with  friends,  or  shall  we  provide  for  you 
with  the  rest  of  the  party  ? "  he  asked,  doubtfully,  as  they 
approached  Mrs.  Elmore's  gate. 

"I  will  go  on  with  the  rest,"  she  murmured,  dropping 
her  veil,  and  slightly  quickening  her  pace. 

"Mr.  Hand  will  entertain  two  guests.  Shall  I  take  you 
and  your  assistant  there?"  he  asked. 

Mr.  Hand  she  remembered  as  a  worthy  and  well-to-do 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  263 

old  farmer,  from  whose  dairy  and  garden  she  had  often 
supplied  her  table,  and  his  wife  was  one  of  the  most  sa 
gacious  oracles  of  the  village  gossip. 

"I  have  no  choice,"  she  said.  And  there  they  were  es 
corted,  to  make  ready  for  the  first  session  of  the  institute, 
which  was  to  begin  in  an  hour,  while  the  professor  has 
tened  away  to  give  directions  about  their  baggage. 

Miss  Newell's  presence  excited  great  interest  among  the 
teachers.  The  fame  of  her  enterprise  had  preceded  her. 
She  explained  in  a  quiet,  modest  way  the  plan  and  aim  of 
her  own  school,  what  she  believed  the  true  order  of  studies, 
her  own  theories  and  methods  of  imparting  literary  culture 
to  young  ladies,  and  found  herself  obliged  to  answer,  as 
best  she  could,  many  perplexing  questions.  But,  because 
Professor  Moors  seemed  to  listen  with  appreciation,  she 
found  her  interest  increasing  with  every  exercise,  and,  con 
trary  to  her  plans,  she  remained  to  the  end  of  the  last  day 's 
session.  At  the  close,  he  took  occasion  to  express  publicly 
his  deep  appreciation  of  her  services,  and  adding  after 
ward,  to  her  alone,  words  of  warmest  praise,  offered  her  a 
check  for  a  small  amount,  saying : 

"I  thought  you  might  dislike  to  have  any  remuneration 
for  your  valuable  assistance  publicly  voted  by  the  associa 
tion,  and  so,  using  my  discretionary  power  over  its  funds 
as  president,  I  beg  you  to  accept  this." 

Instantly  the  same  rigid  pallor  of  indignation  which  he 
had  once  before  observed  with  so  much  alarm  overspread 
her  face,  but  she  only  said: 

"I  could  never  consent  to  receive  pay  under  the  cir 
cumstances.  ' ' 

The  days  she  had  looked  forward  to  with  such  mingled, 
but  anxious,  feelings  were  now  ended.  All  the  old  acquaint 
ances  whom  she  met  observed  a  new  grace  and  sweetness 
in  her  face  and  manner,  and  had  remarked  upon  the 
change.  It  had  inspired  them  with  a  more  cordial  and  ten- 


264       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

der  regard,  which  in  some  almost  took  the  form  of  pity. 
She,  too,  had  noted  the  change  in  their  manner,  and  she 
had  ever  found  herself  asking  if  they  could  know  or  suspect 
her  great  secret.  She  had  visited  the  old  home,  and  sat 
again  in  her  own  old  room  and  mused  drearily  over  the 
sad  and  impassable  chasm  which  so  soon  had  yawned  be 
tween  her  and  the  old  life  now  gone  for  evermore.  She  had 
taken  again  a  long,  solitary  walk  down  the  glen  and  home 
over  the  hill.  From  the  window  of  her  room  she  had  seen 
Mrs.  Elmore  ride  past,  but  she  had  no  wish  to  meet  her. 

As  she  walked  slowly  toward  the  station  with  her  assist 
ant,  to  take  the  evening  train,  she  again  met  Professor 
Moors.  Leaning  upon  his  arm,  and  looking  up  earnestly 
into  his  face,  she  recognized  Mrs.  Elmore 's  niece,  Emma 
May. 

They  had  been  warm  friends  in  their  school-days.  Al 
though  rivals  in  the  class-room,  no  feeling  of  emulation  had 
ever  prevented  them  from  sharing  each  other's  secrets,  or 
laying  famous  plans  for  a  future  in  which  they  were  always 
to  be  associated,  till,  as  they  reached  maturity,  the  latter 
grew  diverse. 

Miss  May  had  little  of  her  companion's  energy  of  soul, 
still  less  of  her  reserve,  but  her  character  was  a  combina 
tion  of  ingenuousness  so  complete  that  it  often  lapsed  into 
effusiveness  with  admirable  tact — a  combination  as  happy 
as  it  is  rare.  She  had  devoted  herself  with  great  enthusi 
asm  to  art,  and  had  just  returned  from  four  years  of  for 
eign  study. 

There  was  an  instant  of  mutual  recognition  on  the  part 
of  the  ladies,  but  both  seemed  determined  to  make  the 
gathering  darkness  an  excuse  for  hastening  on  without 
salutation. 

"They  do  say,"  began  Miss  Newell 's  companion,  "that 
Professor  Moors  is  visiting  that  girl,  and  that  she  is  very 
handsome  and  accomplished,  and  has  brought  home  from 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  265 

Europe  some  beautiful  pictures  of  her  own  that  will  make 
her  famous.  Come  to  think,  you  must  know  her,  for  she 
grew  up  here." 

' '  She  was  my  old  playmate.  Excuse  me  now  if  I  cannot 
talk  of  her, ' '  said  Miss  Newell,  unable  to  control  herself. 

The  glib,  chatty  little  normal  teacher  looked  at  her  in 
speechless  amazement,  and  scarcely  spoke  again  till  they 
reached  Ashton. 

Once  securely  in  her  own  room  at  her  grandmother's, 
Miss  Newell  gave  way  to  such  violence  of  grief  as  she  had 
never  felt  before.  She  walked  up  and  down  with  stream 
ing  eyes,  and  then  threw  herself  upon  her  bed,  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  pillow  to  stifle  her  sobs.  It  was  an  angry 
grief. 

"What  right  has  this  man  to  come  between  me  and  my 
long-cherished  plans — to  embitter  all  my  life?  I  offered 
him  all,  and  he  deliberately  poisoned  love's  arrows  for  me, 
and  feels  no  pang  himself,  while  I  love  on  in  vain. ' ' 

Her  heart  did  not  break ;  but  all  the  ice  which  had  so  long 
hardened  about  it  was  melted  now,  and  gradually  she  grew 
calm.  Then  a  sense  of  bitter  loss  succeeded;  yet  she  felt 
that  her  life  was  isolated  from  all  those  warm  human  sym 
pathies  which  soothe  and  support.  The  world  to  her  seemed 
a  dreary  sea,  on  which  she  was  floating  and  drifting  hope 
lessly,  while  day  and  night,  like  unmeaning  light  and 
shadow,  were  brightening  and  darkling  over  her  unrespon 
sive  spirit,  and  while  from  the  heavens  above,  deep  and  in 
scrutable  as  destiny,  came  no  answer  to  her  prayers.  Thus 
benumbed,  and  stricken  through  and  through  with  despair, 
she  sank,  toward  morning,  into  a  fitful  sleep. 

Mr.  Meechum  was  a  bustling  little  man,  with  a  head  pre 
maturely  tinged  with  gray,  and  with  a  parboiled  complex 
ion,  who  had  been  for  several  years  superintendent  of 
schools  at  Ashton.  Miss  Newell  had  known  him  in  college, 
when  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  first-class  election- 


266       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

eerer  and  trotter  for  his  society,  a  somewhat  obsequious 
and  very  serviceable  man  in  general.  He  had  a  wise, 
scheming  and  politic  brain,  and  a  rare  talent  for  pleasing 
all  without  committing  himself  to  anybody  or  anything  in 
particular,  and  without  ever  expressing  a  decided  opinion. 
By  his  genius  for  trimming  and  shuffling  he  had  managed 
to  find  or  make  his  way  into  the  best  society  of  the  town 
without  being  looked  upon  as  a  social  parasite.  If  there 
was  anything  to  which  he  stood  fairly  committed  it  was 
the  view  that  men  and  women  were  absolutely  equal  and 
alike  in  the  schoolroom,  and  must  have  the  same  hours, 
privileges,  grade,  and  wages.  This  he  had  said  in  a  card 
to  the  Ashton  Torchlight,  and  this  gained  him  his  election 
by  a  handsome  majority  over  his  competitors.  He  had 
watched  Miss  Newell  and  her  enterprise  from  the  first  with 
the  liveliest  concern,  and,  as  they  grew  in  popular  favor, 
not  without  some  dismay. 

But  mature  reflection  revealed  matters  in  a  new  light. 
Here  was  a  chance  for  a  most  advantageous  alliance.  Edu 
cational  and  social  prestige  was  the  prize.  Cooperation 
between  the  new  institute  and  the  public  schools  he  knew 
Miss  Newell  had  sought  with  little  success  thus  far.  He 
had  called  on  her,  and  talked  over  a  plan  by  which,  with 
slight  changes  which  it  was  in  his  power  to  make,  all  girl- 
graduates  of  the  high-schools  might  be  prepared  to  enter 
the  institute.  He  had  enlarged  on  the  reciprocal  advan- 
tages»of  harmonious  relations  between  them,  to  all  of  which 
Miss  Newell  had  very  warmly  assented.  Of  late  he  had 
been  quite  a  frequent  caller,  and  Miss  Newell  had  met  him 
with  a  courtesy  which  he  felt  to  be  very  flattering.  In 
Miss  Newell 's  absence  her  grandmother  had  several  times 
received  him,  and  his  manner  had  been  so  gracious  that  she 
had  been  completely  won  over  to  his  interests. 

It  was  nearly  noon  the  day  after  Josie's  return  from 


A  LEAP-YEAR  EOMANCE  267 

Springtown  that  the  old  lady  entered  her  granddaughter's 
room  with  breakfast  on  a  tray. 

"I  thought  I'd  fetch  it  up  myself,  just  to  see  how  you 
git  on ;  though  ef  you  hain't  slept  out  yit  I'll  come  up  again 
bime-by.  But  it's  gettin'  rather  hard  to  lug  my  old  bones 
up  the  steep,  squeaky  stairs." 

"  Thank  you.  Please  set  it  on  the  stand.  I  will  get  up 
soon,"  said  Miss  Newell,  wearily. 

"Why,  law  sakes  alive!  How  dragged  out  you  do  look. 
Humph!  And  no  wonder  you  hain't  got  no  emptins  left 
in  you  after  all  you've  been  a-doin'  on  a  fortnight  back. 
Josie,  it  ain't  in  natur',  unless  you're  made  out  of  steel 
springs  and  ingines,  to  work  so.  I've  done  it  all  my  life, 
but  'pears  like  young  folks  ain't  made  o'  the  same  stuff 
as  we  was  in  my  day.  And  now  I  think  on  it, "  continued 
the  old  lady,  settling  herself  into  a  chair,  and  lowering  her 
voice  at  the  same  time,  and  vastly  pleased  with  herself  to 
think  she  had  introduced  the  special  object  of  her  visit  with 
so  much  tact,  ' '  there !  Mr.  Meechum  's  called — let  me  see — 
once,  twice,  to  see  you  when  you  was  away.  Now,  1 11  allow 
he  ain't  no  stavin'  great  shakes — p'r'aps.  I  don't  s'pose 
he'd  ever  set  a  river  afire,  but  he  ain't  no  booby,  and  that's 
sartin  as  preachin'.  He  hain't  never  let  on  to  me,  not  one 
word.  I  reckon  he  feels  a  little  kinder  shameful,  and  loath 
to  speak.  He  ain't  one  of  them  kind  as  blurts  right  out 
like  some,  and  I  don't  s'pose  he's  ever  said  anything  to 
you.  As  long  ago  as  you  and  he  was  in  Springtown  study- 
in',  Mrs.  Hand  once  said  to  me  at  a  quiltin',  says  she,  just 
as  hateful  as  she  always  was  arter  about  three  cups  of  tea, 
when  her  eyes  begun  to  bung  out  of  her  head,  and  her 
tongue  to  run  at  both  ends — says  she,  'There's  Meechum 
and  Josie — how's  that  for  a  match?'  I  was  bitin'  mad 
then,  and  I  just  up  and  spoke  right  out  in  meeting'.  Says 
I,  'Mrs.  Hand,  you  git  a  new  whimsey  every  cup  o'  young 
hyson  you  drink.  He  couldn't  shake  a  stick  at  Josie,  and 


268       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

everybody  knows  that  only  you. '  But  I  look  at  things  very 
different  from  what  I  used  to,"  she  continued,  with  some 
tenderness  in  her  accent.  "Now,  Josie,  s'posin  I  drop  off 
sudden,  what '11  you  do  all  alone  in  the  world?  And  Mee- 
-chum  thinks  so  much  of  you  he'd  always  do  just  as  you 
wanted  him  to.  He'd  make  such  a  nice  and  obleegin'  hus 
band,  and  if  you  don't  feel  the  need  of  one  now  you  will 
bime-by.  You  ain't  grouty  'cause  I  spoke  of  it,  are  you?" 
said  she,  after  a  pause. 

"Oh,  no,  dear  grandmother;  I  will  get  up  and  take  my 
breakfast, ' '  said  Miss  Newell,  rising  and  kissing  the  old 
lady,  who  started  off  to  the  kitchen,  pleased  at  the  fancied 
success  of  her  diplomacy. 

Miss  Newell  resumed  all  her  old  school  duties  the  next 
week,  but  they  had  lost  all  interest  for  her.  She  was  fight 
ing  with  a  stout  heart  and  an  iron  will  against  despair  now. 
Mr.  Meechum  continued  to  call.  Miss  Newell  was  even  glad 
to  see  him.  His  society  was  far  more  pleasant  to  her  than 
self-communion.  But  her  manner  was  such  that  he  ven 
tured  to  make  no  advances. 

Thus  some  weeks  passed  before  the  inevitable  crisis  came. 
Despondency,  anxiety,  overwork,  had  brought  sleepless 
ness,  and  at  last  utter  nervous  prostration,  and  Miss  Newell 
found  herself  obliged  to  resign  all  school  duties  to  her  assist 
ants,  and  to  seek  rest  and  quiet  in  a  change  of  scene.  The 
physicians  prescribed  Europe.  The  sea-air  and  the  new 
interests  of  foreign  travel  might  revive  and  refresh  quickly, 
at  any  rate  most  surely.  The  present  must  be  entirely 
banished  from  her  consciousness  for  a  time,  or  the  worst 
consequences  might  ensue.  And  so  it  was  at  length  ar 
ranged.  As  the  day  of  her  departure  approached,  Ashton 
and  her  home  began  to  seem  unendurable  to  her.  It  was 
well  she  must  go,  for  she  could  no  longer  stay.  Her  fevered 
fancy  boded  some  nameless  and  impending  calamity  if  she 
did  not  hasten  her  departure.  She  felt,  too,  that  she  was 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  269 

leaving  a  life  to  which  she  was  never  to  return.  But  some 
thing  within,  resistless  as  destiny,  urged  her  on.  It  was 
with  much  effort  that  she  met  friends  and  pupils  for  the 
final  adieus.  She  fancied  that  all  saw  her  heart,  and  read 
its  inmost  secret.  Despite  the  protest  of  her  physician,  and 
the  most  earnest  remonstrance  of  friends,  she  persisted  in 
starting  upon  the  long  journey  alone.  She  must  resolutely 
face  all  her  griefs,  and  carefully  and  persistently  think 
and  feel  her  own  unaided  way  through  them  all  to  sanity 
again,  or  be  lost. 

During  these  final  days  of  preparation  Mr.  Meechum  was 
unusually  attentive.  He  was  constantly  bustling  about, 
offering  every  conceivable  kind  of  aid.  His  services,  offi 
cious  as  they  grew,  were  accepted  with  courtesy.  Even, 
when  he  proposed  a  correspondence  on  educational  mat 
ters  she  had  no  power  to  refuse.  He  accompanied  her  on 
the  train  to  a  distant  town,  and  his  unctuous  good-by  was 
the  last  friendly  voice  she  heard  before  leaving  her  native 
shore. 

The  voyage  was  delightful.  The  bracing  sea-air,  the  un 
wonted  sights,  and  sounds,  and  pastimes  on  shipboard, 
soothed  and  calmed  her  beyond  the  most  sanguine  predic 
tion  of  the  physician.  Instead  of  resolving  all  the  oppres 
sive  sadness  of  the  last  few  months  by  sternly  looking  the 
specters  of  the  mind  out  of  countenance,  as  she  had  hoped, 
she  seemed  to  herself  to  be  leaving  them  far  behind. 

Animated  by  a  lively  and  curious  interest,  she  passed 
some  months  in  flitting  from  place  to  place,  seldom  leaving 
the  frequented  paths  of  foreign  travel,  but  seeing  all  that 
a  woman  may  see  in  a  few  days  in  Glasgow,  London,  Paris, 
Geneva,  Florence,  Rome,  Venice,  Vienna,  until  at  last, 
fatigued  with  sight-seeing  and  guide-books,  she  determined 
to  pass  what  remained  of  the  winter  and  the  spring  in 
Berlin.  Her  kind-hearted  old  German  patron  in  Ashton 
had  insisted  on  giving  her  a  note  to  his  friends  in  that  city, 


270       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

which  now  she  was  heartily  glad  to  use.  It  introduced  her 
to  a  family  of  considerable  refinement  and  gentility,  who 
kindly  assisted  her  in  finding  suitable  lodgings,  and  whose 
friendship  and  hospitality  were  so  cordially  offered  that 
she  learned  to  look  to  them  for  almost  daily  counsel  and 
assistance. 

The  war  with  France  had  ended  long  ago ;  and,  although 
the  Prussian  capital  was  already  the  center  of  progressive 
Teutonism,  the  vestiges  of  old  German  particularism  were 
yet  abundant,  and  Miss  Newell  was  charmed  to  find  that 
she  had  fallen  in  with  the  simple  life  of  the  old  Berlin 
burgher.  The  quaint  and  well-kept  furniture,  the  peculiar 
provincial  accent  and  vocabulary,  the  home-made  garments 
for  everyday,  the  coarse  fare,  the  heartfelt  piety  that  so 
reverenced  each  morsel  of  daily  bread  as  a  special  token  of 
heavenly  favor,  the  unquestioning  loyalty  to  God  and  the 
kaiser,  and,  amid  and  over  all,  such  abundant  measure  of 
the  untranslatable  G&muthtichkeit — all  this  endeared  her 
new  friends,  and  helped  to  give  life  a  new  zest  again.  "With 
another  American  lady,  whose  acquaintance  she  had  made 
by  chance,  Miss  Newell  even  ventured  to  call  on  the  new 
rector  of  the  university  and  solicit  the  privilege  of  attend 
ing  lectures;  and  at  last,  after  much  delay,  was  informed 
that  for  the  first  time  the  academic  senate  had  voted  per 
mission  to  attend,  provided  the  consent  of  the  several  in 
structors  could  be  obtained,  although  matriculation  was 
not  allowed  to  women.  But  the  observations  excited  by 
her  presence  among  the  students  was  so  embarrassing,  the 
lecture  so  special,  and  her  acquaintance  with  the  language 
so  inadequate,  that  Miss  Newell  soon  left  her  more  hardy 
and  ambitious  companion  to  the  sole  enjoyment  of  this 
privilege,  and  decided  to  apply  herself  to  drawing  under 
the  direction  of  a  visiting  instructor. 

Herr  Schroder  was  an  enthusiast  in  his  devotion  to  art. 
When  a  young  man,  he  had  visited  Rome  with  a  few  com- 


A  LEAP-YEAR  EOMANCE  271 

panions,  who,  like  himself,  were  fired  with  the  ardent  pur 
pose  of  making  art  the  means  of  restoring  the  Fatherland 
to  the  bosom  of  the  true  church.  Devotion  must  be  pas 
sionate  in  order  to  be  pure,  they  maintained.  Europe  had 
lapsed  into  secularism,  which  was  only  a  euphemism  for 
doubt.  Faith  alone  could  reanimate  the  corpse  of  modern 
society.  It  was  the  divine  mission  of  art  to  realize  the 
good  and  the  true  in  the  forms  of  the  beautiful.  True  art 
is  that  which  translates  the  vital  doctrines  of  Scripture  and 
sacred  tradition  into  forms  of  sense  most  adequately  and 
effectively. 

Some  of  the  little  band  assumed  almost  the  garb  and 
habits  of  life  of  one  of  the  monastic  orders.  Two  of  their 
number  had  vowed  celibacy.  They  met  semi- weekly  to  criti 
cize  each  other's  work,  and  to  share  each  other's  new  in 
sights  and  enthusiasms.  When  they  returned  to  Germany, 
and  slowly  realized  how  fond  and  vain  their  hopes  had 
been,  some  clung  with  yet  more  passionate  devotion  to  their 
principles  after,  and  perhaps  because,  it  was  apparent  how 
dreamy  and  barren  they  were.  Others  gradually  fell  away 
to  pagan  styles  and  subjects,  despite  the  sharp  reproaches 
of  their  old  associates.  Herr  Schroder  belonged  to  the  for 
mer  class.  He  had  become  known  at  Berlin  as  one  of  the 
most  earnest  and  accomplished  of  modern  ' '  Diisseldorf ers. ' ' 
Surrounded  then  by  hostile  influences,  he  had  so  often  al 
lowed  himself  to  lay  down  the  pencil  and  brush  for  the 
pen  of  the  critic  and  controversialist  that  his  hand  had 
grown  less  facile  on  the  canvas.  From  this  and  a  variety 
of  other  causes  he  had  at  length  become  a  teacher  of  his  art 
without  losing  any  of  the  commingled  religious  and  esthetic 
fervor  and  sentimentalism  which  had  so  strongly  charac 
terized  his  youth. 

This  pleased  Miss  Newell.  She  loved  to  listen  to  her  in 
structor's  rhapsodic  accounts  of  his  emotions  on  first  visit 
ing  Rome,  to  his  description  of  the  grand  masterpieces  of 


272       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

medieval  art  he  had  studied  there,  and  of  the  incalculable 
influence  which  they  had  exerted  upon  the  tone  of  modern 
Christendom.  She  found  his  zeal  contagious  when  he  ex 
patiated  upon  the  mission  of  art  in  the  world  in  localizing 
and  harmonizing  divine  truth.  She  became  interested  in 
the  history  of  painting,  and  visited  with  her  instructor 
several  of  the  numerous  private  galleries  in  the  city. 

"  Is  it  not  plain, ' '  he  said  to  her,  one  day,  ' '  that  religious 
devotion  alone  can  inspire  real  artistic  genius  ? ' ' 

' '  I  have  seen  too  little  to  form  any  opinion  as  yet, ' '  she 
replied.  "But,  surely,  you  do  not  deny  genius  to  the 
Greeks  ?" 

"They  knew  how  to  treat  the  body/'  he  replied,  "but 
there  is  nothing  in  all  classical  antiquity  that  satisfies,  or 
even  appeals  strongly  to,  the  soul.  Not  till  the  discipline 
of  the  Church  had  taught  men  to  mortify  the  flesh,  and  to 
find  the  higher  meaning  of  life  in  meditation  and  prayer, 
did  art  learn  to  make  the  face  more  expressive  than  the 
hand." 

"At  least  you  do  not  deny  great  merit  to  what  you  term 
profane  or  secular  art?"  she  queried. 

"Suppose,"  said  he,  "an  artist  paints  fruit  and  flower 
studies  so  perfectly  to  the  eye  that  one  cannot  distinguish 
the  original  from  the  copy.  What  good  is  done?  It  is  at 
best  but  a  reduplication  of  Nature.  Some  chromo-photo- 
graphic  art  may  be  invented  any  day  that  shall  make  all  that 
superfluous.  As  to  pagan  mythology,  not  only  does  it  lack 
the  prime  element  of  reality,  is  unsubstantial  as  dreams, 
cloud-shadows,  instead  of  reflections  of  heavenly  truth,  but 
it  yields  either  no  moral  or  a  bad  one.  No  artist  who  has 
labored  in  this  field  has  ever  overcome  the  constant  tempta 
tion  to  sacrifice  spirit  to  sense,  which,  in  fact,  his  theme 
quite  generally  compels  him  to  do.  But,  granting  the  very 
most  that  can  be  claimed,  it  can  convey  at  best  but  a 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  273 

merely  moral  lesson,  or  express  possibly  some  distant 
prophecy  or  dim  allegory  of  revealed  wisdom. " 

"What  do  you  say,  then,  of  historic  and  landscape  paint 
ing?"  she  asked. 

" Simply  this,"  he  replied,  "that  it  is  either  untrue  or 
uninteresting.  Secular  history  in  itself  is  extremely 
monotonous,  save  when  it  may  serve  for  the  enforcement 
and  illustration  of  the  facts  of  religious  history.  Like  a 
landscape  study,  it  can  have  little  intrinsic  merit,  or  excite 
little  independent  interest.  The  chief  use  of  both  is  to 
make  tone  and  background  for  the  data  of  revelation,  like 
an  accompaniment  in  music.  Examine,  for  instance,  as  I 
have  done,"  he  continued,  "the  great  Passions  and  the 
Madonnas,  and  you  will  not  fail  to  observe  that  it  is  devo 
tional  ardor  which  has  given  an  almost  superhuman  refine 
ment  of  expression,  an  intensity  of  feeling,  a  depth  of  soul, 
a  fervor  of  aspiration,  nowhere  else  to  be  found,  and  a 
touch  of  living  reality  which  makes  itself  felt  in  the  ex-» 
quisite  finish  of  form  and  glowing  warmth  of  color." 

"I  am  so  crude,"  said  Miss  Newell,  "I  need  to  think  of 
these  things." 

* '  If  you  would  learn  to  paint, ' '  said  Jlerr  Schroder,  * '  or 
even  to  know  what  painting  is,  you  must  study  the  master 
pieces  in  Rome.  The  genius  of  the  place  there  will  whisper 
the  open  secret  of  art  to  you." 

"I  fancy,"  said  she,  "I  should  need  you  for  my  inter 
preter,  for  I  confess  I  am  such  a  barbarian  that  after  three 
days  of  the  most  diligent  sight-seeing  there,  and  interesting 
and  grand  as  everything  was,  I  was  on  the  whole  dis 
appointed.  I  like  Berlin  far  better." 

Herr  Schroder  only  raised  his  eyebrows,  sighed,  shook 
his  head  slowly,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders  significantly 
in  reply. 

In  the  course  of  the   winter   Miss  Newell   frequently 


274       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

thought  of  this  conversation,  and  had  repeatedly  sought  to 
continue  it,  but  always  in  vain. 

"Ah,  Fraulein,"  Herr  Schroder  replied  one  day,  "these 
things  are  so  deep  and  sacred  with  me !  Art  and  religion 
are  one  and  inseparable.  I  am  a  painter  because  I  was 
first  a  believer ;  and  how  can  I  ever  hope  to  make  you,  who 
have  no  faith,  understand  me?  These  things  need  the  in 
sight  of  sympathy.  Yet,  if  I  could  think  that  you  had  ever 
experienced  some — yes,  any — intense  and  absorbing  feel 
ing,  deep  enough  to  break  up  and  mold  anew  your  whole 
soul,  and  make  life  and  death  seem  indifferent  save  as  they 
might  minister  to  the  attainment  of  its  object,  then  I  might 
hope  to  make  intelligible  to  you  the  devotion  which  both 
religion  and  art  should  inspire." 

"Excuse  me  if  I  have  seemed  to  ask  a  confidence  which 
I  could  not  give  in  return,"  Miss  Newell  replied,  with  a 
stern  effort  to  be  calm. 

When  Herr  Schroder  left  her  that  day,  the  old  heart- 
soreness  which  she  fancied  was  well-nigh  healed,  returned. 
"He,  too,  finds  me  cold  and  unfeeling,"  she  thought.  "I 
seem  to  myself  to  have  a  heart  of  proud  flesh ;  to  others  it 
seems  a  stone.  There  is  no  danger  of  betraying  my  secret 
when  everything  I  do  belies  my  very  soul.  But  yet,  why 
did  he  speak  of  such  a  sympathy,  if  he  did  not  suspect 
ground  for  it  in  me?  Can  it  be  hidden  nowhere,?  No 
confidant  or  confessor  in  the  world  could  ever  draw  it  from 
me.  If  it  had  never  found  utterance,  I  might  hope  one 
day  to  be  happy  again ;  but  now,  0  Memory  and  Love !  is 
there  no  escape  from  your  power?  Must  I  face  the  only 
issue  which  remains  for  those  who  suffer  what  can  neither 
be  cured  nor  endured?" 

When  her  .reflections  grew  calmer,  she  determined  to  de 
vote  all  her  strength  to  the  study  of  painting.  If  it  led  her 
toward  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  into  it — yes,  or  even  into  a 
convent  as  a  bride  of  Christ — what  mattered  it?  Her 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  275 

(prejudices  against  Catholicism  were  probably  bred  of  igno 
rance,  and,  if  she  could  only  find  nepenthe  there,  all  might 
be  well  again. 

So  she  pored  over  the  lives  of  the  great  masters,  and 
made  large  collections  of  photographs  and  engravings,  and 
studied  every  accessible  painting  of  note  in  the  city,  spent 
a  week  at  Leipsic,  and  would  have  gone  to  Rome  despite 
the  lateness  of  the  season  but  for  the  reiterated  protests  of 
her  instructor.  Her  toil  was  as  unremitting  as  her  zeal 
was  ill-directed  and  impulsive.  She  worked  with  the  in 
considerate  and  impetuous  haste  that  only  those  yield  to 
who  are  at  cross-purposes  with  themselves.  She  had  sud 
denly  resolved  to  make  art  fill  the  place  of  social  enjoy 
ment,  friends,  country,  family,  and  even  of  love  and  re 
ligion.  She  found  great  solace  in  a  few  sketches  she  had 
designed  and  executed  with  much  care  with  the  pencil,  and 
which  she  hoped  soon  to  be  competent  to  attempt  in  oil. 
Women  more  than  men  always  reproduce  themselves  in 
art,  and  no  wonder  that  she  found  a  kind  of  self -ministra 
tion  which  was  almost  sacred  in  this  employment.  As  she 
gained  power  to  realize  and  objectify  her  own  sorrow,  it 
became  less  poignant.  This  she  might  do  with  safety,  for, 
even  if  other  eyes  than  her  own  ever  beheld  her  work,  they 
could  not  interpret  her  heart?  Now  she  felt  that  she  was 
on  the  only  road  which  could  lead  her  again  to  perfect 
mental  and  emotional  sanity. 

Meanwhile  she  had  received  frequent  letters  from  Mr. 
Meechum.  They  informed  her  of  all  the  educational  gossip 
afloat  in  Ashton,  and  of  the  waning  fortunes  of  her  institu 
tion.  His  were  the  only  communications  she  received  save 
from  relatives  and  her  vice-principal,  and  they  were  all 
answered  promptly.  She  recounted  to  him  her  university 
experience,  described  the  sights  she  had  seen  in  her  travels, 
and  even  her  acquaintance  with  Herr  Schroder.  Against 
the  influence  of  the  latter,  Mr.  Meechum  felt  it  his  duty  to 


276       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

warn  her  most  solemnly  and  emphatically.  He  had  heard 
that  Jesuits  assumed  every  disguise  to  win  proselytes  to 
Rome.  Her  instructor  was  probably  no  artist,  but  a  priest. 

Thus  spring  slowly  passed,  and  summer  approached. 
Herr  Schroder  came  twice  a  week,  and  was  very  greatly 
pleased  with  the  progress  and  zeal  of  his  pupil. 

' '  If  you  had  begun  earlier,  and  had  had  good  instruction, 
you  might  perhaps  have  made  an  artist,  after  all,"  he  ex 
claimed,  with  much  ill-disguised  surprise,  as  with  a  sudden 
burst  of  confidence  she  one  day  showed  him  some  of  her 
unfinished  sketches.  "  Perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  under 
stand  me  yet  some  day,"  he  said,  with  beaming  delight. 

' '  And  why  not  now  ? '  '  said  Miss  Newell,  impulsively. 

The  painter  looked  at  her  with  a  long,  earnest,  inquiring 
gaze,  till  she  blushed,  and  stopped  to  pick  up  a  fallen 
sketch. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  .with  a  smile.  "You  American  women 
are  such  materialists  and  so  world-wise,  and  have  such  a 
business  way  about  everything,  that  I  have  been  much 
afraid  of  you.  I  think  I  should  like  -to  tell  you  everything. 
Yet,"  he  added  slowly,  "these  things  cannot  be  so  well 
told  as  seen  and  felt  by  intimate  friendship.  Such  friend 
ship,  I  begin  to  think,  I  could  enjoy  with  you." 

"I  fear  that  it  would  be  selfish  in  me  to  accept  it,  and 
that  you  would  be  sadly  disappointed  in  me,"  she  said,  de 
murely.  "I  must  add  more,"  she  continued,  after  a  pause 
and  with  much  effort — "that  all  the  friendship  which  can 
spring  from  common  sympathy  in  the  matters  of  which  we 
have  conversed  will  be  more  grateful  to  me  than  perhaps 
even  you  can  imagine.  But  I  can  never  receive  or  give 
anything  more." 

Thenceforth  they  understood  each  other,  and  the  former 
reserve  between  them  was  gone.  She  saw  him  only  as 
before,  and,  when  the  hour  of  instruction  was  ended,  he 
took  his  departure  yet  more  promptly  than  formerly.  But 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  277 

now  they  could  speak  freely.  She  gathered  incidentally 
the  story  of  his  life,  and  felt  safe  in  pitying  his  lonely  and 
unfortunate  lot,  and  in  indulging  her  growing  admiration 
of  the  faith  that  could  minister  such  overflowing  happiness 
to  a  life  which  had  been  filled  only  with  unrealizable  ideals, 
deferred  hopes,  and  impossible  ambitions. 

So  reassured  had  she  been  by  her  instructor's  manifest 
satisfaction  with  the  unfinished  sketches  she  had  shown 
him,  that  she  at  length  undertook  to  finish  two  of  them, 
which  she  deemed  the  best,  in  oil;  and,  when  they  were 
done,  no  eye  but  her  own  had  seen  them.  She  had  such  a 
growing  sense,  of  their  imperfections  that  they  were  soon 
locked  away  in  the  closet,  save  now  and  then,  when  visitors 
were  not  expected,  she  found  satisfaction  in  bringing  them 
forth  from  their  hiding-place,  till  they  had  become  the 
theme  of  the  meditation  of  many  a  lonely  hour. 

One  had  for  its  background  the  high  citadel  and  battered 
walls  of  Megara,  which  rose  darkly  and  massively  against 
the  clear  eastern  sky,  faintly  tinged  with  the  purple  dawn, 
while  the  waning  moon  still  cast  long,  pale  shadows  from 
the  west.  A  grassy  knoll  to  the  right  was  covered  by  the 
tents  of  the  Cretan  army,  all  now  wrapped  in  silent  slum 
ber.  In  the  foreground,  by  the  door  of  the  royal  tent, 
stood  King  Minos,  without  sandals  or  helmet,  hastily 
wrapped  in  his  mantle.  In  the  hand  that  held  the  folds  of 
his  garment  he  grasped  a  sheathed  sword,  and  the  other 
was  extended  in  a  violent  gesture  of  disgust  and  repulsion. 
Scylla  stood  before  him,  her  father's  purple  lock,  which 
the  oracle  had  declared  the  Palladium  of  the  besieged  city, 
lying  at  her  feet.  Her  hair  was  bound  by  a  broad,  golden 
fillet,  the  front  of  the  upper  rim  arched  into  a  diadem 
which  proclaimed  her  royal  birth.  At  the  extreme  right 
stood  slaves  with  precious  treasures  from  her  father's 
palace.  She  had  seen  and  loved  from  afar,  and  had  stolen 
forth  to  offer  father,  friends,  home,  country,  all  she  was 


278       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

i 

able  to  conceive  the  man  of  her  choice  might  desire,  only 
to  find  herself  despised,  abhorred,  and  rejected.  Mingled 
rage,  guilt,  and  despair,  without  fear  or  remorse,  flamed  in 
her  face.  Her  hands  were  clinched,  her  attitude  full  of 
defiance,  and  her  hair,  still  carefully  smoothed  above  the 
coronet,  below  seemed  coiling  into  forms  which  resembled 
the  shining  tresses  of  the  furies.  Love  in  an  instant  turned 
into  implacable  hate. 

In  the  other  picture  a  broad,  square  tower  rose  above 
the  walls  of  a  crumbling  old  castle,  from  which  through  an 
open  casement  leaned  the  "lily  maid  of  Astolat" — Elaine. 
All  the  environments  were  roughly  finished,  and  Miss 
Newell  had  devoted  all  her  care  to  the  central  figures. 
Below,  Lancelot,  his  face  pale  and  thin  from  the  long  ill 
ness  through  which  she  had  so  tenderly  and  faithfully 
nursed  him,  was  putting  spur  to  his  steed  without  even  an 
adieu,  with  "rough  discourtesy  to  break  or  blunt  her  pas 
sion.  "  The  shield  she  had  so  long  guarded  hung  upon  his 
arm.  She  had  scoured  all  its  old  dints  so  brightly  that  the 
soft  light  of  the  setting  sun  was  reflected  from  it  into  her 
face  as  fully  as  when 

" First  she  placed  it  where  morning's  earliest  ray 
Might  strike  it  and  awake  her  with  its  gleam." 

The  knight's  brow  was  stern,  and  his  lips  compressed, 
and  he  was  in  the  act  of  tearing  from  the  old  shield  the 
"red  sleeve  bordered  with  pearls"  which  he  had  worn  in 
his  last  and  greatest  tourney  as  her  token.  Her  face  was 
pale  and  thin.  Since  first 

" .  .  .  .  she  lifted  up  her  eyes, 
And  loved  him  with  that  love  which  was  her  doom," 

no  deeper  anguish  had  pierced  her  heart  than  now.  Not 
even  when,  as  the  favor  he  begged  her  to  ask,  she  besought 
that  she  might  have  his  love  and  be  his  wife,  and  when, 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  279 

because  it  could  not  be,  she  swooned  with  anguish.  Now 
it  was  a  calm,  deeper  climax  of  sorrow  that  dimly  dis 
cerned  as  from  afar  its  own  balm.  Her  lips  were  parted 
with  an  expression  no  less  sweet  than  sad,  which  seemed 
to  welcome  love  and  death  alike.  Her  hands  were  clasped 
upon  the  silken  case  she  had  braided,  and  her  eyes,  though 
fixed  upon  the  high  plume  of  the  knight,  seemed  to  look 
vacantly  far  beyond  to  their  future  meeting,  when,  in  the 
chambers  of  the  false  queen  who  had  renounced  him,  he 
should  pluck  her  letter  from  her  clay-cold  hand  and  read — 

'  '  I  loved  you,  and  my  love  had  no  return, 

And,  therefore,  my  true  love  has  been  my  death," 

'and  pause  to  leave  a  kiss  upon  her  lips  and  a  tear  upon 
her  brow.  Such  a  look  was  on  her  face  as  holy  pilgrim- 
women  wear  when  they  pause  in  barren  places  and  look 
upon  a  cross. 

One  day,  when  she  was  idly  gazing  at  these  pictures, 
her  instructor  announced  himself  so  suddenly  that  she 
had  no  time  to  conceal  them;  and,  when  he  entered  her 
work-room,  they  were  at  once  discovered.  Without  observ 
ing  her  discomfiture,  he  examined  them  carefully,  pointing 
out  defects  she  had  and  others  she  had  not  observed, 

"But,"  he  said,  at  last,  giving  way  to  his  enthusiasm, 
"they  are  wonderful  for  your  practice,  especially  the  scene 
from  Tennyson.  I  once  sought  myself  for  such  a  subject, 
and  even  made  a  sketch  of  poor  Vanessa  in  an  ideal  scene. 
Profane  themes  are  well  for  studies,  but  there  is  no  in 
spiration  in  them.  I  almost  think  you  might  now  succeed 
with  a  Madonna.  Even  this  face/'  pointing  to  Elaine, 
"would  be  remarkable  as  a  Dolorosa.  But  do  you  observe 
how  much  these  faces  resemble  each  other,  and  how  like 
both  are  to  expressions  I  have  often  seen  lurking  in  your 
own  face?  You  should  vary  the  type  and  subject.  Be 
sides,  you  are  attempting  too  much.  I  must  insist  on  a 


280       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

vacation.  In  a  few  weeks  it  will  be  safe  to  visit  Rome. 
That  must  be  the  next  step  in  your  studies.  You  are  far 
better  prepared  to  go  than  I  thought.'' 

A  few  days  later  she  set  out.  It  was  a  somewhat  senti 
mental  journey.  She  lingered  awhile  at  Lucerne,  arid  again 
at  Geneva.  Saddened  hearts  find  comfort  and  companion 
ship  in  mountains.  The  clear  and  pure  air,  the  silence,  and 
solitude,  and  grandeur,  soothed  and  calmed  without  ex 
hilarating.  She  had  no  desire  for  adventuresome  ascents, 
and  felt  no  impulse  to  copy  or  paint,  but  was  content  to 
contemplate,  and  enjoy,  and  write  in  her  journal.  Yet 
Herr  Schroder  was  right  about  Nature.  The  great  metrop 
olis  of  art  whither  she  was  bound  must  be  far  more  refining 
and  regenerating  than  it ;  and  oh !  regeneration — that,  after 
all,  was  what  she  needed.  In  the  Eternal  City  she  would 
find  the  true  home  of  her  soul ;  and  she  wrote  in  her  diary : 

"I  will  taste  the  lotus  no  longer,  lest  no  power  of  hel 
lebore  avail  to  help  me  hence.  I  will  obey  the  call ! ' '  and 
two  days  later  she  was  comfortably  quartered  in  Rome. 

Guide-book  in  hand,  wandering  at  random  in  her  im 
petuous  and  desultory  way  with  a  fresh  and  insatiable 
curiosity,  she  had,  during  the  month  that  elapsed  before 
Herr  Schroder  arrived,  become  quite  familiar  with  the  most 
obvious  sights  and  sentiments  of  the  place.  Here  she  found 
that  which  absorbed  her  into  self-forgetfulness.  Alone  as 
she  was,  she  felt  the  need  of  no  society.  Here,  too,  was  the 
independence  she  long  had  sought.  Here  she  would  spend 
all  her  remaining  days.  The  old  life  must  be  forgotten. 
She  would  break  from  it  completely.  This  would  be  a  new 
birth,  indeed.  She  owed  no  duties  to  her  grandmother, 
whose  own  children  were  anxious  to  minister  to  her  com 
fort,  and,  as  for  her  institute,  it  had  declined  in  popularity, 
and  was  mortgaged  for  taxes.  So,  at  least,  Mr.  Meechum. 
had  written.  Possibly  he  might  be  willing  to  make  her  an 
offer  for  it.  Of  course,  she  must  lose  heavily,  but  perhaps 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  281 

more  heavily  if  she  delayed.  By  the  laws  of  the  State  he, 
as  school  superintendent,  would  soon  control  it  independ 
ently  of  her.  Again  it  might  revive  and  become  more  use 
ful  in  his  hands  than  it  ever  could  be  under  her  manage 
ment.  A  few  months  later,  therefore,  it  became  his  for  a 
small  sum,  and,  when  all  was  done,  Miss  Newell  was  some 
what  surprised  to  observe  that  his  letters  abruptly  ceased, 
leaving  even  her  last  inquiries  unanswered.  This  roused 
for  a  time  some  feeling  of  indignation  and  chagrin,  but,, 
when  it  subsided,  she  became  moralist  enough  to  write  in 
her  journal: 

"Even  ungrateful  neglect  and  indignities,  which  are 
among  the  ills  we  have  to  bear,  may  be  endured,  if,  like 
Dr.  Pangloss,  we  reflect  how  much  more  grievous  they 
might  have  been.  We  may  learn  some  wisdom  from  Dr. 
Pangloss,  absurd  as  he  is." 

She  had  counted  the  days  till  her  instructor's  arrival. 
She  had  hardly  realized  before  how  large  a  place  he  filled 
in  her  thoughts.  She  really  longed  to  see  him.  She  had 
studied  what  he  liked,  and  imagined  his  opinions  on  many 
things  which  she  had  seen.  She  had  sketched  but  little, 
but  had  seen  and  pondered  much.  She  would  confide  in 
him  without  reservation  when  he  came.  He  could  explain 
everything,  and  she  had  saved  up  so  many  questions  to  ask 
him! 

When  they  met,  she  was  not  greatly  embarrassed  to  find 
herself  blushing  in  his  presence,  while  she  fancied  that  the 
vivacity  and  sprightliness,  which  she  did  not  try  to  repress, 
made  him  more  deeply  serious  than  ever  before. 

Herr  Schroder  was  at  home  here.  He  knew  the  digni 
taries  of  the  Church,  and  the  artists,  and  was  favorably 
known  by  them.  He  explained  to  his  pupil  the  symbols  of 
the  ritual,  and  the  paraphernalia  of  the  festivals,  and  intro 
duced  her  to  several  of  the  painters,  and  to  a  distinguished 
prelate,  and  found  her  a  teacher  of  Italian.  They  saw 


282       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

much  of  each  other  now,  and  took  frequent  strolls,  and 
even  saw  the  Coliseum  by  moonlight  together,  and  her 
journal  was  forgotten. 

"What  more  auspicious  time  and  place,"  said  he,  as 
they  stood  upon  a  huge  hewed  block  of  stone  by  the  ruins, 
"to  make  a  great  life-choice?  Here  is  human  power 
crumbling  and  decaying  like  Babel,  confusion,  doubt,  secu 
larism,  temporality,  Protestant  schism,  and  iconoclasm. 
There" — pointing  to  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's — "is  the  type 
of  spiritual  unity  and  aspiration,  a  mere  shadow  which 
will  fade  and  vanish  like  these  ruins,  but  which  will  leave 
behind  it  a  precious  immortality  of  influence.  Its  very 
ground-plan,  a  cross,  will  make  its  ruins  more  eloquent  of 
suffering  endurance,  the  capital  virtue  of  Christianity,  than 
its  perfection  can  ever  be.  Oh!"  he  continued,  with  in 
creasing  vehemence,  "what  has  science  done  or  can  it  ever 
do  for  faith?  Nothing  but  correct  her  proof -texts  and 
revise  her  illustrations,  and  reword  her  dogmas;  but  art, 
from  the  first,  has  made  religion  a  power  in  the  world. 
The  Muses  give  higher  motives  and  better  comforts  than 
material  possessions  or  knowledge  can  ever  do.  Art  alone 
can  realize  for  holy  ends  all  the  traditions  of  imperial 
Borne,  and  make  her  the  center  whence  a  new  and  higher 
civilization  shall  spread  over  the  world." 

"You  know  I  have  chosen,"  Miss  Newell  broke  in,  with 
deep  emotion. 

"But  do  you  know  that,  if  you  choose  Christian  art,  you 
enter  upon  a  via  dolor osa  which  will  never  lead  you  to 
either  wealth  or  fame  ? ' '  asked  he. 

"I  have  renounced  possessions,  country,  a  life  of  ease, 
perhaps  some  renown,  my  own  will,  yes,  and  my  very  heart 
itself,"  she  said,  with  tearless  eyes  but  with  a  trembling 
voice.  ' '  What  more  ?  I  think  sometimes  I  could  do  almost 
anything  in  art  which  you  would  advise  and  direct.  I  feel 
that  art  may  by-and-by  give  me  something  to  cling  to,  to 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  283 

lean  upon;  and  something — something  in  heaven  or  on 
earth — I  must  have!" 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  Herr  Schroder 
gazed  long  and  almost  tenderly  upon  her,  and  only  said: 

"Do  not  despair;  have  patience;  it  is  the  secret  way  to 
genius.  You  may  be  accounted  worthy  to  serve  the  holiest. 
The  spirit  of  power  may  come  to  you  at  any  moment.  Men 
are  still  inspired  here." 

They  walked  home  slowly  and  silently.  The  next  day 
they  were  teacher  and  scholar  again,  and  talked  of  work. 

"It  is  about  time  your  apprenticeship  should  end,"  said 
Herr  Schroder.  ' '  You  must  try  to  learn  to  trust  your  own. 
creative  power.  Put  your  taste,  your  creed,  your  heart, 
yourself,  in  short,  into  some  original  subject.  Think  it  out 
carefully,  and  express  it  slowly  and  patiently,  using  me 
for  details.  Drawing  is  your  best  point.  It  is  in  coloring 
that  I  can  help  you  most." 

After  much  deliberation,  and  with  the  same  unconven 
tional  candor  of  sentiment  and  motive  that  so  often  char 
acterized  her  action,  she  chose  an  old,  old  theme,  so  spun 
over  with  dogmas,  and  hedged  about  by  traditional  forms 
of  treatment,  that  to  one  ambitious  merely  of  artistic  fame 
it  would  have  seemed  beset  with  too  great  dangers  and 
difficulties.  It  was  the  Holy  Night  of  Nights — the  supreme 
hour  of  motherhood,  when  love  becomes  complete,  and 
every  first-born  child  seems  the  offspring  of  Heaven — 
Immanuel. 

An  arched  grotto  in  a  crumbling  limestone  rock  had  often 
been  a  noonday  retreat  and  a  theme  for  pencil-sketches, 
in  the  glen  at  her  Western  home.  In  such  a  shelter,  slight 
ly  improved  by  a  fore-work  of  stones  and  branches,  upon  a 
bed  of  dried  straw  and  grass,  lay  a  young  mother  clasping; 
a  child,  "all  meanly  wrapped,"  to  her  breast.  The  face 
of  the  child  was  not  seen,  hardly  the  outline  of  its  form, 
but  all  the  beatitudes  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  face  of  the 


284       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

mother.  The  dawn  was  scarcely  gray  in  the  east,  but  a 
bright  light,  softer  than  that  of  the  sun,  lay  warm  and 
fresh  from  an  unknown  source  upon  the  scene — a  type  of 
the  new  revelations  and  insights  of  love.  A  male  figure 
knelt  near  the  mother  with  face  averted,  but  evidently 
absorbed  in  contemplation,  less  carefully  finished  than  the 
rest,  with  slight  constraint  and  more  affectation,  evidently 
mingled  with  a  deep  ardor  of  devotion.  Before  the  outer 
edge  of  the  shelter  paused  a  yet  more  rudely-clad  herds 
man,  with  a  face  strangely  eloquent  of  meaning.  It  told 
that  these  intruders  were  strangers,  far  from  home,  in  need 
of  sympathy,  perhaps  of  help.  Pity,  and  surprise,  and 
reverence  were  there,  but  above  all  a  tender  sadness,  which, 
when  it  was  once  caught  and  felt  by  the  observer,  seemed 
to  dim  the  splendor  of  the  light,  and  make  the  pile  of  fagots 
at  one  side  suggestive  of  a  sacrificial  altar,  and  the  faint 
shadow  that  fell  prone  and  uncertain  upon  the  huddled 
sheep  behind  him,  of  a  cross.  Both  gazed  upon  the  mother, 
and  she,  unconscious  of  all — even  her  child — seemed  ab 
sorbed  in  the  vision  of  some  higher  presence,  unseen  save 
by  her.  The  lines  of  care  and  suffering,  and  of  present 
pain,  were  too  deeply  worn  in  her  brow  to  be  effaced,  but 
they  only  made  more  expressive  the  tranquil  calm  and 
deep  joy  that  now  filled  and  completely  satisfied  her  soul, 
and  made  every  accumulated  ill  and  shame  of  life  forgotten 
in  the  supreme  joy  of  motherhood. 

Such  was  the  ideal  that  gradually  took  shape  in  Miss 
Newell 's  mind,  and  toward  the  expression  of  which  she 
wrought  with  great  diligence.  She  studied  faces  and 
groupings,  and  gathered  suggestions  from  almost  every  col 
lection  in  the  city.  She  was  with  her  teacher  more  than 
ever  before.  Never  had  she  felt  such  constant  need  of  him. 
Never  had  she  longed  so  earnestly  for  greater  skill  to  ex 
press  her  conceptions.  Only  the  encouragement  of  his 
enthusiasm  kept  her  from  despair  of  her  own  powers ;  and 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  285 

yet,  upon  the  whole,  she  had  never  found  so  much  pleasure 
in  any  task,  and  the  praises  of  her  mentor  had  never  been 
so  warm  and  valued.  She  knew  he  was  pleased  with  her 
choice  of  theme,  and  he  had  found  but  little  fault  with  her 
conception  of  it.  She  had  Hoped  to  finish  it  before  the 
festivities  of  Christmas,  that  she  might  find  needed  rest 
and  recreation  in  these. 

One  day  when  it  was  nearly  complete,  Herr  Schroder 
rapped  at  her  door  much  earlier  than  usual.  He  found  her 
already  at  her  work. 

"I  have  been  suddenly  called  away  for  a  few  days,"  he 
said,  in  an  unusually  earnest  and  intense  manner ;  ' '  I  could 
not  go  until  I  had  spoken  to  you  about  a  matter  which  you 
may  perhaps  easily  anticipate,  and  which  has  occupied  my 
thoughts  especially  of  late." 

Miss  Newell 's  heart  was  in  her  throat  in  an  instant.  She 
could  not  trust  her  voice,  but  only  motioned  him  to  sit. 

' 'You  must  have  felt  in  this  last  work  of  yours,"  he  said, 
after  a  long  pause,  "the  deep  impulse  which  sometimes 
seems  outside  of  and  more  mighty  than  self,  so  that  you 
appear  merely  to  look  on  and  see  yourself  work.  This 
larger  life,  which  men  call  enthusiasm,  love,  genius — forms 
of  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  all  of  them — you  must 
have  felt?" 

"I  have  felt  it,"  she  said,  slowly.  "At  least,  I  love  my 
work;  but  not  purely  for  itself — for  something  else.  My 
former  life  will  linger  in  my  thoughts  in  such  a  sad,  sweet 
way,  that  I  often  wonder  whether  I  should  enjoy  more  or 
less  here  if  I  could  forget  it  entirely." 

"You  did  well,"  he  rejoined,  "to  renounce  and  try  at 
least  to  forget  the  past  before  you  came  here.  But,  in 
doing  so,  you  must  have  had  higher  thoughts  and  feelings 
to  sustain  you  and  make  all  ills  seem  blessings  in  disguise. ' ' 

"Yet,"  she  continued,  "I  often  feel  that  somehow  selfish 
ness  is  at  the  bottom  of  all,  and  am  often  conscious  of  the 


286       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

need  and  absence  of  all  you  describe,  and  almost  sink  for 
the  want  of  something  to  cling  to  for  support. ' ' 

"Ah!  that,"  said  Herr  Schroder,  gravely,  "is  the  need 
of  every  human  heart,  and  it  is  the  chief  business  of  all 
mental  culture  to  discover  what  that  something  is.  Do 
you  not  believe  that  the  Muses  are  all  servants  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?" 

"No  doubt,"  she  replied,  "but  we  must  love  the  divine 
through  the  human.  Is  that  not  the  highest  precept  of 
art?  Christ  seems  so  far  away!  The  theologians  have 
almost  resolved  him  back  into  ineffable  God." 

"But,"  said  he,  "we  have  his  representatives — the 
clergy,  the  Church,  and  its  holy  offices.  Yet  it  is  true  we 
need  more.  I  have  felt  most  deeply  the  need  of  companion 
ship  and  sympathy  in  my  solitary  life." 

"We  cannot  live  without  love.  We  need  not  disguise  or 
deny  it, ' '  she  said,  with  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice,  while 
her  eyes,  gazing  into  the  distance,  showed  her  thoughts  to 
be  far  away. 

"Perhaps,"  he  rejoined,  "you  and  I  have  reason  to  feel 
this  more  than  most.  In  this  common  need,  we  have  much 
ground  for  mutual  understanding.  You  can  best  judge  of 
this,  however,  for  you  know  far  more  of  my  life  than  I  of 
yours.  Yet  you  were  wisest  in  concealing  and  trying  to 
forget  the  past.  Now  you  can  help  me  to  a  new  life. ' ' 

'  *  I  am  bound  to  you  by  debts  of  gratitude,  which,  I  fear, 
nothing  less  than  that  could  ever  repay.  Would  that  I 
dared  to  hope  it  were  possible ! ' '  she  added,  after  a  pause. 

"I  cannot  explain  to  you  the  long  reserve  I  have  felt  in 
speaking  of  this,"  he  said,  "and  now  it  is  only  because  the 
voice  of  Heaven  commands  no  further  delay  that  I  am 
here."  His  manner  was  more  impassioned  and  fervent, 
and  he  drew  very  close  to  her  side  as  he  said : 

"The  Divine  will  has  decreed  for  us  the  holiest  of  all 
earthly  vows.  Shall  we  obey?" 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  287 

"We  cannot  do  otherwise,''  she  said.  "I,  too,  have  long 
wished  for  a  higher  consecration  to  art,  yes,  prayed  for  it 
often.  If  you  could  show  me  how  it  is  attained,  oh,  how 
light  my  weary  griefs  would  become ! ' '  Yet  the  tears  were 
gathering  in  her  eyes. 

'  *  And  I ! "  he  said,  almost  rapturously,  scarcely  heeding 
what  she  said.  ' '  The  thought  of  this  has  led  me  on  almost 
from  the  first.  My  prayers  are  answered.  You  have  given 
me  strength.  And  now,"  he  continued,  suddenly  clasping 
her  hand  in  his  own,  "when,  through  the  holy  rites  of  the 
Church,  we  are  dead  to  the  world  and  to  each  other,  and 
the  sacred  veil  of  the  bride  of  Christ  has  fallen " 

She  started  up  with  a  sudden  cry  of  horror  and  agony 
as  his  meaning  flashed  upon  her.  She  had  thought  only 
of  a  higher  devotion  to  art,  which  was  to  lift  her  above  the 
ordinary  griefs  of  humanity,  and  had  clung  to  Herr 
Schroder  as  the  minister  to  that  end.  He,  enthusiast  as  he 
was,  had  thought  only  of  mutual  vows  of  retirement  into 
the  holy  seclusion  of  monastic  and  cloistered  life;  or  pos 
sibly  the  flames  of  love  and  of  religious  fervor  were  so 
commingled  in  his  soul  that  he  had  by  turns  mistaken  each 
for  the  other,  and,  by  the  influence  of  Miss  Newell 's  ac 
quaintance,  had  become  conscious  of  being  drawn  now  to 
thoughts  of  marriage — now  to  purposes  of  higher  religious 
consecration.  The  latter  motive  had  prevailed,  or  the  latter 
mood  chanced  this  hour  to  be  paramount.  To  be  sure,  his 
words  had  vaguely  suggested  such  thoughts  to  her  mind 
before,  but  they  had  always  been  dismissed  without  serious 
consideration ;  for,  if  he  desired  to  renounce  the  world,  she 
could  see  no  reason  for  any  wish  on  his  part  that  she  should 
do  the  same. 

This  time  the  shock  was  too  great  for  her  exhausted  sys 
tem.  "With  a  low  moan  of  agony,  she  fainted  in  her  chair. 
Possibly  her  teacher  suspected  the  cause  of  her  distress. 


288       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

At  all  events,  when  she  was  restored,  others  were  over  her, 
and  he  was  gone. 

The  next  day  he  called,  hut  he  could  not  see  her.  The 
morning  following  she  left  Rome,  and  in  two  days  was  in 
her  old  quarters  at  Berlin,  which  had  chanced  to  remain 
vacant  during  her  absence. 

She  was  warmly  received  by  her  old  friends,  who  had 
been  greatly  concerned  because  nothing  had  been  heard 
from  her  since  her  solitary  departure  for  Rome.  They 
hastened  to  place  in  her  hands  a  few  letters  which  had 
lain  there  for  some  time  till  her  new  address  should  be 
known.  Among  these  was  one  from  Professor  Moors.  She 
recognized  the  handwriting,  but,  although  nearly  pros 
trated  with  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  opened  and  read  it 
with  perfect  composure. 

The  professor  had  some  hope  of  establishing  a  home  of 
his  own  in  the  spring,  the  letter  stated.  He  wished  a  few 
tasteful  pictures,  copies  in  oil,  if  they  could  be  procured, 
of  some  of  the  great  masters.  His  house  had  several  rooms 
somewhat  like  those  in  her  old  home  in  Springtown.  It 
might  aid  her  to  keep  this  in  mind.  A  few  general  speci 
fications  as  to  price  and  character  were  added,  leaving  a 
wide  range  of  choice  to  her  own  taste. 

This  was  a  commission  which  it  would  require  several 
days  to  execute,  but  she  set  about  it  at  once,  and  it  was 
soon  done. 

During  her  previous  residence  here  she  had,  through  the 
family  of  the  house,  made  the  acquaintance  of  several  visit 
ing  Sisters  from  the  convent  of  the  Holy  Cross,  and  had 
felt  strongly  drawn  toward  them.  The  placid  repose  of 
soul  which  they  seemed  to  enjoy,  their  tranquil  and  yet 
beneficent  lives,  charmed  and  hallowed  by  an  atmosphere 
of  peace  and  subdued  satisfaction  and  joy,  had  from  the 
first  provoked  her  curiosity.  She  now  met  them  again, 
and  requested  to  see  them  whenever  they  came  to  the  house. 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  289 

In  the  quiet  days  that  succeeded  it  was  inevitable  that 
certain  trains  of  thought  and  purpose  that  before  occupied 
her  mind  should  be  revived  and  reviewed.  Those  first 
Weeks  in  Berlin,  when  Herr  Schroder  had  been  to  her  only 
a  teacher,  seemed  now  to  have  been  almost  happy.  What, 
after  all,  if  he  had  been  in  the  right !  It  might  be  that  all 
the  wounds  of  earth  could  be  healed  and  forgotten  in  pious 
seclusion  and  meditation.  Her  life  had  been  indeed  un 
usually  solitary.  There  might  be  a  divine  purpose  in  that. 
Of  course,  intellectually,  she  was  conscious  that  she  had 
no  proclivities  toward  Catholicism.  Many  of  its  dogmas 
she  knew  only  as  noxious  and  almost  profane.  But  an 
asylum  from  the  rough,  cold  world,  the  opportunity  for 
spiritual  advancement  and  confidence,  a  true  confessional 
of  soul,  perhaps — these  seemed  invested  with  a  wondrous 
and  growing  charm.  Here,  too,  she  might  find  occupation. 
She  could  still  paint,  and  find  consecration  and  inspiration, 
and  live  in  the  midst  of  insights  and  motives  that  would 
suggest  and  interpret  the  highest  subjects;  while  for  her 
leisure  hours  there  remained  devotion,  study,  works  of 
charity.  Her  pictures,  too,  would  sell  for  a  small  sum,  no 
doubt — enough,  with  what  was  yet  left  of  her  inheritance, 
for  the  deposit-fund  required  at  the  end  of  her  novitiate, 
before  she  took  the  final  vows.  At  last  she  was  resolved; 
the  pictures  were  sold,  and  their  price — far  less,  she  knew, 
than  their  real  value — laid  by.  She  began  to  feel  herself, 
in  reality,  dead  to  the  world,  to  its  common  pleasures  and 
pains.  How  kind  was  Providence  to  lead  her  heart,  and 
at  last  her  feet,  to  a  home,  sweet  home,  for  her  tired  soul ! 
Some  weeks  were  to  elapse  before  the  initial,  and  many 
before  the  final,  rites  of  consecration,  by  which  she,  with 
several  others,  was  to  be  set  apart  from  the  world.  On  the 
morrow  she  had  decided  to  accept  the  kind  invitation  of 
the  Sisters,  and  to  occupy  a  room  with  them  in  the  convent 
dormitory,  and  a  seat  at  their  commons-table. 


290       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

The  morrow  was  Christmas.  It  was  one  of  those  rare 
days  of  warm  and  perfect  splendor  which  sometimes  smile 
down  upon  old  Berlin  in  early  winter  through  Italian  skies, 
and  which,  whenever  they  come,  make  a  holiday  of  Nature 's 
own  setting  apart,  for  all  who  have  or  can  beg  or  steal 
leisure  to  enjoy  it. 

Miss  Newell 's  sleep  had  been  sound  and  untroubled. 
Her  great  elevation  of  feeling  made  her  the  more  calm. 
This  morning  she  spent  nearly  an  hour  in  devotional  medi 
tation  and  prayer,  exercises  almost  new  to  her,  and  which 
added  greatly  to  the  depth  of  her  joy  and  peace. 

The  members  of  the  household  where  she  lived  had  sent 
in  a  neat  little  bouquet  of  flowers,  with  a  card  on  which 
was  written  Prosit  zum  Weihnachtsfest!  and  she  was  just 
taking  out  the  plain  but  neat  garments  she  was  to  wear, 
when  a  caller  was  announced  in  the  parlor  below.  He  had 
sent  no  name  or  card.  She  went  down  at  once,  and  found 
herself  face  to  face  with  Professor  Moors !  For  an  instant 
neither  spoke.  There  was  no  form  of  salutation.  This 
time  she  was  more  calm  than  he.  She  observed  that  he 
looked  jaded  and  anxious.  He  began  speaking  rapidly: 

"I  left  Ashton  three  weeks  ago,  traveling  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Elmore.  She  has  shown  me  long  ago  the  great  wrong 
I  have  done  you.  I  have  come  to  Europe  to  find  you  and 
to  tell  you  that  I  have  loved  you  from  the  first.7' 

She  suddenly  raised  her  hand  deprecatingly,  but  it  fell 
again. 

"You  are  not  married,  then?"  she  asked,  after  a  pause, 
with  a  tone  of  simple  surprise,  yet  very  calmly. 

"I  have  never  had  a  thought  of  it,"  he  said,  with  great 
emphasis  and  more  surprise,  "  which  did  not  lead  my  mind 
and  very  heart  toward  you." 

He  paused  a  moment,  but  she  said  nothing,  and  he  con 
tinued  : 

"I  had  foolish  and  cruel  motives.    I  thought  you  proud, 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  291 

unfeeling,  wrongly  ambitious,  and  I  fought  long  and  bit 
terly  against  my  own  heart.  How  little  I  knew  you  then! 
I  was  proud  and  heartless.  Now  I  am  ready,  longing  for 
any  sacrifice,  any  atonement.  Nay,  more — I  feel  that  my 
life  henceforth  will  be  a  poor,  worthless  thing  if  it  cannot 
be  linked  with  yours." 

She  stood  drearily,  almost  breathlessly  there,  while  these 
words,  that  would  once  have  thrilled  her  heart  with  un 
speakable  joy,  seemed  now  like  the  echo  of  a  far-off  sor 
row. 

"Have  you  ceased  to  love  me?"  he  exclaimed,  with 
trembling  voice. 

"I  fear  so — worthily,"  she  said,  slowly. 

"If  you  could  see  my  heart But  no,  I  will  not  speak 

of  my  suffering.  Great  as  it  has  been,  yours  has  been  far 
deeper,  I  know.  Nay,  do  not  draw  back.  I  know  far  more 
of  you  than  you  suspect — know  it  honorably,  as  a  man  and 
a  lover  has  some  right.  I  dare  even  appeal  to  your  own 
heart.  Do  not  answer  hastily.  Let  me  leave  you  now  to 
take  counsel  with  your  own  thoughts."  He  turned  toward 
the  door. 

"You  are  right,"  she  said,  yet  more  calmly.  "I  must 
not  listen  to  you.  It  is  Heaven  that  has  parted  us.  Oh, 
this  is  all  a  dream!  We  may,  we  must  take  time,"  she 
burst  out  impetuously  after  an  instant's  pause. 

1 1  Ah !  if  you  wish  to  humble  or  test  me,  it  is  perhaps  but 
just,"  he  said.  "Yes,  impose  anything,  any  task  whatso 
ever." 

*'As  you  have  done  to  me?  Not  for  worlds!"  she  inter 
posed,  with  deep  feeling.  "But  you  did  not,  could  not 
know!" 

"I  knew  nothing.  I  misinterpreted  all  from  the  first — 
till  a  month  ago,"  he  replied,  "when,  thanks  to  Mrs.  El- 
more,  my  eyes  were  opened." 

"Perhaps  we  need  not  speak  more  of  it,"  she  said.    "It 


292       RECKEATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

can  do  no  good.  I  cannot,  dare  not,  abandon  the  life  I 
have  chosen.  The  vows  are  already  in  my  heart  It  would 
be  worse  than  weakness  to  look  back/' 

"But  these  plans  cannot  be  deliberate.  Is  there  no  hope 
— none  ? ' ' 

"There  is  none,"  she  said,  with  deep  emotion,  and  with 
manifest  effort  to  be  firm.  "I  belong  to  my  friends  but 
for  a  few  hours,  and  after  that  I  hope  never  to  leave  the 
society  of  the  Sisters  I  have  found  here." 

The  professor  lingered  a  moment,  and  then,  with  a  sud 
den  impulse,  left  the  house  abruptly  and  without  a  word. 

When  he  was  gone,  Miss  Newell  sank  into  a  chair,  quite 
overpowered  by  a  sense  of  utter  weakness  and  helplessness, 
such  as  she  had  never  felt  before.  "Once,"  she  thought, 
"this  would  have  been  an  hour  of  supreme  bliss.  Once, 
too,  when  friends  called  me  hard  and  cold,  I  might  have 
steeled  my  heart  against  every  thought  of  love,  but  now 
I  can  only — what  ?  Pray  ?  Yes. ' '  And  she  prayed  silently 
in  anguish  of  soul  as  she  sat  there,  her  face  covered  with 
her  hands;  prayed  that  her  love  might  be  all  refined,  and, 
ceasing  to  clasp  things  of  earth,  might  be  absorbed  in  things 
heavenly  and  divine;  that  she  might  follow  duty  with  an 
eye  more  single  and  a  consecration  more  unreserved;  that 
she  might  learn  from  the  life  of  the  dear,  loving  Jesus  Him 
self  how  to  find  "all  the  joy  that  lies  in  a  full  self- 
sacrifice." 

She  had  sat  thus  she  knew  not  how  long,  when  the  door 
opened  and  Mrs.  Elmore  entered  unannounced,  and  threw 
her  arms  about  Miss  Newell's  neck  in  her  old  warm  impul 
sive  manner,  almost  before  she  could  rise,  and  began  at 
once: 

"There,  my  dearest  Josie,  I  am  not  in  the  least  sur 
prised,  not  the  least  in  the  world.  I  always  knew  it  would 
be  so.  Why,  he  loved  you  from  the  first,  just  as  I  said, 
and  you  thought  I  dreamed  it,  or  else  lied,  and  that  he 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  293 

cared  for  my  niece.  You  wicked  girl ! ' '  and  she  embraced 
and  kissed  her  yet  more  demonstratively  than  before. 

Miss  Newell  raised  her  hand  deprecatingly  and  began : 

"Do  you,  then,  not  know " 

"Know?  Yes,  everything/'  interrupted  Mrs.  Elmore, 
now  almost  fiercely;  "but  you  don't  mean  one  word  of  it. 
If  you  do,  upon  my  soul,  you  are  crazy,  and  you  shall  not 
leave  this  house !  If  Heaven  sent  you  to  a  convent,  it  sent 
me  across  the  sea  to  prevent  your  going.  It  is  the  same 
old  pride  in  a  new  and  more  dangerous  form  than  ever. 
Now  it  would  complete  its  work  in  entirely  crushing  out 
your  heart.  You  love  him,  and  if  you  can't  see  that  God 
wants  you  to  make  this  man  happy — to  save  him  from  a 
heavier  and  longer  grief,  perhaps,  than  even  yours  has 
been — you  had  better  seek  a  hospital  for  your  soul !  Why, ' ' 
she  continued,  after  a  pause,  "he  has  not  had  a  thought 
that  was  not  yours,  but  he  feared  you  did  not  truly  love 
him.  Your  cold  manner  he  thought  was  heartlessness. 
Now  he  knows  you  love  him,  and  you  cannot  escape  him  if 
you  try.  He  cared  for  your  school,  and  when  it  all  ran 
down  in  Mr.  Meechum's  hands,  he  bought  it  himself,  and 
reorganized  it  much  on  your  old  plan.  Your  old  Spring- 
town  home,  too,  he  purchased  a  year  ago,  and  now  it  is 
refitted  and  furnished,  and  ready.  If  he  seems  to  have 
presumed  too  much  on  your  love,  that  is  all  my  fault/' 

"If  I  thought  it  was  pride "  said  Miss  Newell,  ab 
sently,  after  another  long  pause. 

"Of  course  it  is.  Willful,  wicked,  stubborn  pride,  and 
oh,  what  a  dreadful  direction  it  has  taken,  and  how  you 
must  have  indulged  it!"  said  Mrs.  Elmore.  "If  you  can 
subdue  it  now,  it  will  be  a  real  regeneration.  The  culture 
of  all  the  religions  can  do  no  more  than  that." 

"You  are  my  best  friend.  I  have  done  you  great 
wrong!"  exclaimed  Miss  Newell,  now  throwing  her  arms 
about  Mrs.  Elmore 's  neck.  "If  you  could  only  know  how 


294       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

I  have  suffered !"  and  Mrs.  Elmore  became  positive  that 
she  did  know  all  about  it  as  she  felt  the  hot  tears  fall  upon 
her  cheek,  but  this  time  she  was  silent. 

"How  shall  I  tell  the  Sisters V  Miss  Newell  asked  at 
length. 

<rTell  them  everything,  and  they  will  give  you  the  kiss 
of  peace  and  bid  you  *  Godspeed!'  "  was  the  reply.  "But 
there  is  another  with  whom  you  must  break  your  word 
first.  Sit  here  and  grow  calm  while  I  step  over  to  the  hotel 
and  call  him,"  and  she  hastily  left  the  room. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  professor  entered,  almost  timidly. 
Each  looked  into  the  other's  eyes  an  instant,  and  then  she 
was  in  his  arms. 

She  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"t)o  you  know  how  my  love  has  wavered  and  wandered 
— how  much  pride  and  selfishness  you  will  have  to  bear 
with?" 

"I  should  be  cruel,  indeed,  if  I  were  as  unjust  to  you  as 
are  your  own  thoughts." 

"What  first  convinced  you  that  I  really  loved  you?" 
she  asked  next. 

"Mrs.  Elmore  made  me  feel  it  at  last,"  he  replied;  "and 
then  I  came  by  chance  the  other  day  upon  a  picture  you 
sold,  which  contained  my  portrait  as  a  herdsman,  so  won 
derfully  and  tenderly  finished  from  memory." 

She  blushed  deeply,  and  he  continued : 

"You  will  see  that  and  two  others  I  have  been  able  to 
find  and  identify  after  some  pains,  in  your  own  old  room 
in  the  old  house  in  Springtown — soon^  I  hope." 

She  could  not  speak,  but  she  rested  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder.  Such  absorbing  peace  and  joy  filled  her  heart 
so  long  estranged  from  its  highest  good,  but  now  satisfied 
!and  atoned.  At  last  she  turned  her  face  toward  his,  and, 
iWith  a  smile  faint  but  full  of  happiness,  said:  "I  must 
impose  one  condition.  You  do  not  ask  me  to  stand  by  my 


A  LEAP-YEAR  ROMANCE  295 

old  letter  to  you?  I  do  not  like  that.  You  must  go  off 
and  begin  in  true  fashion  and  write  me  some  ardent  love- 
letters.  Then,  perhaps,  if  you  should  ask  me  to  say — in 
two  months,  in  Springtown — that  will  be  next  leap-year- 
day — I  might  have  no  objection." 

Of  course,  Mrs.  Elmore  dropped  in  again  before  an 
hour  had  passed.  The  professor  almost  fancied  she  seemed 
a  trifle  disappointed  to  see,  as  she  did  at  a  glance,  that  her 
services  were  needed  no  longer.  She  has  since  said  that 
the  disposition  of  each  was  so  willful  that  her  anxiety  was 
vastly  relieved  when  she  saw  them  sitting 

Well,  kind  reader,  no  matter  how — for  now  the  writer 
may  as  well  confess  to  so  modest  a  thing  as  being  the  hero 
of  his  own  tale,  which  is  every  word  a  true  one. 

We  began  rather  late,  but  we  have  been  happier  than  a 
younger  and  less  experienced  couple  ever  were  or  could 
have  been  for  nearly  a  year.  We  shall  always  celebrate 
leap-year-day.  My  wife  must  not  see  this  little  story  till 
long  after  you  have  forgotten  it — till  we  have  been  married 
just  four  years.  Then  I  shall  gather  all  these  friends,  if- 
God  spares  them,  every  one,  and,  when  the  best  dinner  I 
can  afford  is  over,  I  shall  read  this  tale  to  them,  and  then 
I  know  Mrs.  Elmore  will  say,  with  great  emphasis:  "You 
are  quite  right.  It  was  all  due  to  me.  I  foresaw  it  from 
the  first.  It  was  the  most  bothersome  match  I  ever  en 
gaged  in.  Those  are  always  the  happiest.  But  the  town- 
gossips — why,  there  is  not  one  of  them  ever  so  much  as 
dreamed  why  the  wedding  was  leap-year-day  to  this  day/' 

And  my  wife  will  say  in  her  quiet,  modest  way :  "I  was 
not  made  for  a  heroine,  my  dear ;  and  I  am  afraid  that  has 
spoiled  your  story.  I  was  very  headstrong,  and  enthusi 
astic,  and  foolish,  but  now  I  fear  I  forgave  you  more  easily 
than  you  deserved.  However,  the  wrong-doing  you  have 
spun  it  all  from  was  mine." 


296       BECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

I  shall  reply:  "My  dear,  our  marriage  is  one  of  mind 
as  well  as  of  heart  and  soul.  You  completely  fill  woman's 
sphere  for  me.  There  is  nothing  I  would  change  in  you. 
I  was  a  little  inconsiderate,  and,  on  the  whole,  I  think, 
perhaps,  I  ought  to  hear  all  the  hlame.  The  best  philosophy 
of  the  domestic  relation " 

And  then  I  know  Josie's  good-hearted  hut  shockingly 
coarse  grandmother  (long  may  she  live  with  us  if  she  does 
not  alter  her  will!)  will  interrupt  me: 

"Children  just  bite  right  off.  You'll  quarrel  yet  who 
is  the  wisest.  I'll  allow  you're  quite  a  dab  at  story-writ 
ing.  But  you've  got  one  thing  wrong.  I  allus  knew 
Meechum  was  a  scamp.  I  knew,  too,  you'd  marry  each 
other  in  the  end  all  the  time ;  so  just  change  that  a  bit,  too, 
while  you  are  about  it." 

And  my  little  boy  will  be  three  then,  and  I  mean  he 
shall  be  able  to  say,  "Yeap-year  ith  better  'an  Kithmath, 
an'  T'anksgivin',  an'  New- Year,  all  todether";  and  if  he 
should  add,  <rBut,  Oh,  papa,  p'ease  don't  write  any  more 
long  towies — I'm  so  sleepy!"  then  I  am  sure  he,  if  all  the 
rest  of  us  have  failed  to  do  so,  may  touch  a  tender  chord 
of  sympathy  in  some  reader's  breast. 


VIII 
NOTE  ON"  EABXY  MEMOBEES 

MOST  of  the  first  fourteen  years  of  my  life  were  spent 
upon  several  farms  in  the  hilly  region  of  western  Massa 
chusetts.  This  home  I  revisited  during  all  vacations  of 
my  course  at  the  preparatory  school,  college  and  profes 
sional  school.  Nearly  every  summer  since,  when  I  have 
been  in  the  country,  I  have  reverted  to  the  region  for  at 
least  a  few  weeks,  and  still  retain  possession  of  one  of 
these  old  farms.  Here  I  have  given  free  vent  to  a  number 
of  fads.  One  summer  I  walked  up  and  explored  in  rubber 
boots  all  the  stream  beds  within  a  wide  radius  of  Ashfield 
village;  collected  and,  with  expert  help,  labeled  all  the 
stones  and  rocks  I  could  find.  Another  August  I  devoted 
to  flowers,  grasses  and  ferns,  collecting  about  one  hundred 
species  of  the  latter  alone.  One  season  several  weeks  were 
devoted  to  climbing  the  hills,  naming  them,  and  marking 
directions,  counting  church  spires,  and  tracing  with  the 
aid  of  a  local  antiquary  nearly  one  hundred  miles  of  old 
stone  wall  in  town  which  marked  the  earliest  partition  of 
farms.  Once  I  amused  myself  by  tracing  glacial  scratches 
in  the  rocks  and  exploring  the  terminal  moraines.  Once, 
with  an  old  lumber  wagon,  I  drove  around  and  asked  every 
one  I  knew  to  let  me  explore  his  attic  and  thus  collected 
about  three  hundred  objects:  from  old  looms,  spinning 
wheels  and  primitive  plows,  to  calashes,  shoe  buckles, 
pewter  plates,  foot  and  bed  warmers,  ancient  school  and 
hymn  books,  homespun  frocks,  pitchpipes  and  such  other 

297 


298       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

mementos  of  ruder  days  as  those  with  which  Mr.  George 
Sheldon  has  filled  his  fascinating  museum  at  Deerfield. 
These  are  now  housed  and  catalogued  in  the  basement  of 
the  academy  "building,  where  on  Friday  afternoons  they 
yield  a  very  modest  income  to  the  janitor,  who  is  allowed 
to  charge  ten  cents  to  all  who  desire  to  visit  the  collection. 
Another  August  I  questioned  old  people  concerning  local 
history,  visited  sites  of  the  old  mills,  cellar  holes,  apple 
orchards,  and  made  out  nearly  two  dozen  family  trees 
which  show  the  sad  decadence  of  this  sturdy  old  Puritan 
stock. 

A  few  summers  ago,  however,  I  undertook  as  a  vaca 
tion  diversion  a  more  or  less  systematic  exploration  of  all 
the  farms  I  had  ever  known,  noting  on  the  spot  everything 
remembered  from  early  boyhood.  I  climbed  in  through 
the  windows  of  abandoned  houses  and  explored  them  from 
roof  to  cellar  in  quest  of  vestiges;  sat  alone  sometimes  for 
hours  trying  to  recall  vanishing  traces  and  to  identify  ob 
jects  which  I  knew  must  have  once  been  familiar.  Thus 
during  the  month  I  noted  between  four  and  five  thousand 
points,  sometimes  revisiting  the  same  scene  to  observe  the 
effects  of  recurrence,  and  from  it  all  I  gathered  some 
general  impressions  of  memory  quite  new  to  me,  which  it 
is  my  object  here  to  note. 

Fwrm  I  was  where  I  was  born  and  where  the  first  two 
and  one-half  years  of  my  life  were  spent.  It  contained 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  acres  of  very  diversi 
fied  land,  and  although  I  had  often  driven  past  it  (little  of 
it  was  seen  from  the  road),  I  had  not  entered  the  buildings 
in  all  that  time,  so  that  more  than  three-score  years  had  inter 
vened.  I  was  allowed  by  the  present  tenant,  who  had  occu 
pied  it  ever  since  we  left,  absolute  freedom  within  doors  and 
without,  and  spent  there  many  hours,  notebook  in  hand,  at 
various  times.  Often,  as  e.g.,  while  gazing  eastward 
toward  a  dense  swampy  forest,  where  even  yet  an  occasional 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  299 

bear  or  deer  is  killed  in  winter,  or  when  coming  upon 
cherry  trees  near  a  ledge  or  visiting  two  large  rocks  beside 
which  were  two  old  maples,  a  feeling  that  I  thought  to  be 
a  glint  of  vague  familiarity  was  experienced.  On  coming 
to  a  knoll  upon  a  vast  heap  of  stones  near  trees  I  found 
myself  articulating  "why  yes,  of  course,  there  was  some 
thing  like  that. ' '  On  coming  upon  a  bit  of  woodland  with 
many  large  dark  stones  near  the  house  this  feeling  was 
very  strong,  and  I  was  suddenly  reminded  of  an  older  girl 
cousin  who  seemed  somehow  lacking  and  due  there,  al 
though  I  have  no  recollection  that  she  ever  sa^w  this  farm, 
yet  on  general  principles  she  probably  had.  Several  ex 
periences  of  this  class  suggest  to  me  that  association  is 
deeper  and  more  indelible  than  conscious  memory.  So 
with  the  rocky  end  of  a  knoll  came  an  almost  imperative 
association  of  cows  being  milked  by  a  woman.  The  present 
occupant  stated  that  the  barnyard  used  to  include  that 
point,  and  it  has  now  been  told  me  that  our  hired  man's  wife 
used  to  milk.  There  was  a  very  faint  suggestion  of  a  dis 
continued  lane  from  this  point  to  the  pasture,  which  I  am 
told  did  exist.  The  sudden  smell  of  catnip,  the  gloomi 
ness  of  an  old  wall  of  very  black  stones,  a  deep  well  be 
neath  the  kitchen,  the  abundant  and  peculiar  moss  on  the 
ledges,  were  other  things  that  brought  a  distinct  sense  of 
familiarity  but  no  trace  of  anything  usually  called  mem 
ory.  A  deep  wild  gorge  to  the  west  of  the  level  road, 
although  quite  hidden  from  it;  the  stumps  of  three  old 
maples  on  the  east  some  distance  from  the  house ;  the  slight 
slope  of  the  front  yard  and  that  of  a  neighbor's  with  a 
well-house,  vaguely  suggest  reminiscence,  but  it  is  more  a 
feeling  of  a  strong  and  peculiar  interest  than  any  identi 
fication  with  past  experience.  The  only  clear  and  distinct 
memory  connected  with  this  place,  which  I  have  always 
carried  and  often  revived,  is  of  a  red  upright  wooden  spout 
with  a  wheel  attached,  through  which  I  poured  water,  and 


300       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

which  to  my  great  grief  was  left  behind  when  we  moved. 
As  an  older  boy  I  used  to  question  my  parents  about  it, 
but  they  seemed  to  have  forgotten  what  it  was.  I  rum 
maged  the  attic  and  shed,  and  finally  found  two  red  water 
spouts  fastened  together  to  which  an  old  reel  wheel  had 
been  nailed,  thus  triumphantly  vindicating  my  memory. 

Thus  out  of  all  the  very  many  objects  and  incidents  that' 
were  impressed  upon  a  child's  mind  during  the  first  two 
and  one-half  years  of  his  life,  almost  nothing  was  definitely 
recalled.  The  inside  of  the  house  which  was  changed  but 
little;  a  few  vestiges  of  old  furniture  in  the  attic  which 
we  were  said  to  have  left;  the  long  shed  entirely  un 
changed;  the  barn;  all  these  things  abounding  in  objects 
of  absorbing  interest  to  childhood,  time  had  almost  com 
pletely  obliterated.  Yet  knowing  well  and  having  experi 
enced  delusions  of  memory  I  am  positive  that  I  cannot  be 
mistaken  in  the  repeated  sense  of  reminiscence  upon  com 
ing  upon  some  of  the  features  above  noted.  Phrases  like 
"why,  so  it  was,"  "yes,  to  be  sure,"  in  some  cases  almost 
came  to  spontaneous  vocal  utterance  at  first,  while  in 
others,  sitting  and  gazing  slowly  developed  this  sense.  It 
was  a  hazy  kind  of  beyond-the-woods  feeling  or  a  stony- 
hillside  impression  with  an  emotional  tone  of  effort  to 
climb  it,  and  repeatedly  with  a  strong  desire  to  sit  an  hour 
or  two  in  a  spot  to  enjoy  the  rapport  that  I  felt  would 
come.  Occasionally  when  I  sat  thinking  of  something  very 
different  or  reading  a  book  I  had  brought  along,  automatic 
side  associations  seemed  to  spring  up.  It  was  certainly  not 
like  other  places,  and  it  differed  from  them  more  than  by 
the  knowledge  I  had  that  I  once  lived  there  and  any  ex 
pectant  tension  that  fact  might  generate.  I  have  little 
doubt  but  that  if  I  had  met  that  ensemble  of  landscape 
features  unexpectedly  in  some  far  country  I  should  have 
been  struck  by  some  reverberations  of  reminiscence  per 
haps  akin  to  those  Plato  connected  with  a  previous  state  of 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  301 

existence.  The  points  of  contact  between  my  mind  and  the 
past  at  least  did  not  take  spacial  form,  but  were  upon  such 
general  impressionistic  items  as  the  gloomy  blackness  of 
the  wall,  the  dreadfulness  of  the  dense  spruce  and  hem 
lock  woods  in  the  east,  the  difficulty  and  perplexity  of  the 
Stony  and  rocky  places,  the  upward  and  downward  slant 
of  the  small  hills.  The  outdoor  impressions  were  far  more 
cogent  than  the  barn  or  house  or  anything  in  them,  and  up 
and  down  directions  of  the  rolling  ground  evoked  a  reaction 
so  peculiar  as  to  suggest  that  the  experience  of  going  up 
and  down  hill  for  a  child  of  the  age  I  was  when  that  was 
my  home  left  a  lasting  impression. 

These  observations  at  any  rate  have  raised  in  my  mind 
the  query  whether  or  not  experiences  of  that  early  age 
distinctly  tend  to  lapse  to  vague  and  evanescent  emotions. 
The  influences  of  the  environment  at  this  very  formative 
and  plastic  age  of  rapid  brain  change  must  have  been 
great,  and  I  cannot  but  believe  that  my  psychic  organiza 
tion  would  have  been  quite  different  had  I  passed  this 
period  of  my  life  upon  a  prairie.  It  may  be  that  remote 
ancestral  phylogenetic  influences  are  related  to  such  nebu 
lous  psychoses  of  memory  somewhat  as  they  themselves  are 
related  to  the  clear,  detailed,  conscious  impressions  arising 
from  recent  experience.  Indeed  we  may  opine  that  such 
vestiges  may  be  the  forms  which  our  experience  takes  just 
as  it  is  fading  from  consciousness  and  sinking  below  ita 
threshold  into  the  larger  unconscious  life,  where  instinct 
and  the  heart,  which  from  their  unfathomable  depths  dom 
inate  so  much  of  our  lives,  hold  their  sway.  Thus  it  is 
perhaps,  Weissmann  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  that 
the  experience  of  the  individual  tends  to  transform  the 
race,  somatic  cells  to  affect  germ  cells,  so  as  to  determine 
the  psychic  disposition  of  offspring.  It  is,  at  any  rate, 
not  impossible  that  hereditary  vibrations  are  simply,  yet 
more  vague  and  shadowy  than,  this  all  but  lost  psychic  or 


302       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

neural  stratum  of  my  own  soul,  which  faint  as  it  now  is 
must  have  had  a  high  determining  value. 

Perhaps  an  opposite  theory  is  truer.  At  that  stage  I 
may  have  been  a  creature  of  sentiment,  and  sense  and 
feeling  may  have  been  closely  related.  The  emotional  tone 
which  colored  all  impressions  may  have  been  the  organ  of 
experience  and  there  may  have  been  no  change  in  the 
psychic  processes  or  even  the  nerve  and  brain  cells,  which 
mediated  the  experience  of  these  years,  but  the  later 
mentality  of  maturity  may  have  simply  grown  over  them, 
and  the  traffic  of  mind  and  life  have  followed  these  newer 
strata.  In  this  case  the  vague  impressions  I  had  were 
recrudescences  of  baby  stages  of  mind  or  what  was  unde- 
cayed  of  them,  and  there  may  have  been  none  but  a  relative 
change  in  their  position  on  the  scale,  if  such  there  be,  that 
separates  reproduction  from  conscious  individual  experi 
ence. 

Certain  it  is  that  I  had  here  a  rare  opportunity  in  the 
very  salient  and  permanent  features  unvisited  during  all 
the  interval  to  look  for  conscious  reminiscences.  But  to 
make  the  experiment  absolutely  conclusive  I  should  have 
been  brought  up  to  believe  that  these  years  had  been  spent 
on  one  of  two  or  more  very  different  farms,  each  of  which 
I  should  have  explored  to  find  which  was  the  true  one  from 
those  effects  of  expectant  tension  and  peculiar  interest 
which  have  always  centered  about  this  place,  the  effects  of 
which  under  such  circumstances  have  never  been  measured, 
and  could  not  have  been  eliminated. 

Farm  II  where  I  lived  from  two  and  one-half  to  eleven 
and  one-half  years,  I  have  driven  by  perhaps  a  dozen  times 
since  I  left  it.  The  house  was  almost  immediately  removed, 
as  were  the  trees  near  it,  and  everything  was  smoothed  and 
grassed  over,  so  that  where  it  once  stood  is  now  an  open 
mow-lot.  All  the  outbuildings,  including  barn,  shop,  shed, 
und  stable,  remain  almost  entirely  unchanged.  Once  or 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  303 

perhaps  twice  in  the  nearly  sixty  years  since  we  left  it  I 
have  walked  over  the  farm  a  little,  but  in  my  study  of 
these  places  now  I  spent  a  day,  notebook  in  hand,  zigzagging 
systematically  across  it  from  end  to  end,  save  perhaps  in 
the  more  densely  wooded  parts,  and  hardly  a  square  rod 
of  ground  escaped  observation.  Of  nearly  eight  hundred 
items  noted  I  am  quite  sure  that  at  least  half  have  been 
in  my  mind  in  some  connection  since.  In  the  case  of  most 
of  the  rest  the  faintness  of  the  reminiscent  sense  tends  to 
confirm  my  impression  of  no  such  intermediate  revival. 
The  most  striking  experience  of  all  was  on  coming  sud 
denly  upon  a  wild  rose  bush  in  a  pasture  near  the  house, 
which  somehow  affected  me  profoundly  and  actually  evoked 
tears,  and  something  almost  like  a  sob  for  some  reason 
utterly  unaccountable.  I  could  not  possibly  recall  any 
thing  definite  about  it  except  that  it  somehow  very  closely 
suggested  my  mother  and  brought  up  later  the  image  of 
her  looking  out  from  the  front  door  up  the  rugged  pasture 
hill,  where  it  stood.  I  fancy  that  it  was  this  very  bush 
that  my  automatic  imagery  used  to  associate  with  her  sing 
ing  "The  Last  Rose  of  Summer/'  which  always  seemed  to 
me  very  pathetic;  but,  although  I  have  racked  my  brain 
since,  I  can  recall  nothing  else. 

A  distinct  class  of  impressions  are  those  which  at  first 
sight  I  vividly  remembered  with  a  sense  of  a  very  long 
interval  since  their  last  recall.  Among  these  were,  for  in 
stance,  a  peculiar  flat  white  rock  against  which  I  was  fond 
of  glancing  stones  to  see  them  strike  fire.  Another  large 
squarish  stone  in  a  brook  beneath  which  I  caught  my  larg 
est  fish  in  a  most  peculiar  way,  and  with  a  pin  hook  at 
that;  a  slight  bend  in  an  elm  which  otherwise  I  remem 
bered  very  well ;  a  rectangular  stone  sluice  at  the  entrance 
of  a  little  causeway;  the  strips  of  ash  bark  on  the  beams 
of  the  barn ;  a  large  twisted  knot-hole  through  which  swal 
lows  entered  it;  the  peculiar  tan  color  of  the  boards  as 


304       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

. 

they  approached  the  eaves ;  two  large  piles  of  stone  near  a 
stone  bridge;  some  curiously  weathered  ledges;  a  peculiar 
branch  in  a  beech  tree  in  the  woods;  the  shadows  of  the 
sun  shining  through  the  beeches  upon  ferns  at  a  certain 
spot;  an  old  tree,  the  roots  of  which  diverged  long  before 
they  entered  the  ground ;  a  large  white  rock  in  the  wall  at 
the  remotest  corner  of  the  pasture  shaded  by  an  immense 
beech ; — oft  repeated  experiences,  such  as  coming  to  a  pecu 
liar  curve  in  some  woodpath ;  a  rise  or  fall  of  the  ground ; 
a  hollow  or  a  knoll;  a  bend  in  the  little  stream;  patches 
of  brakes  and  polypods,  elders  and  sumachs;  these  and 
other  impressions  like  them  glowed  up  vividly  in  memory. 
The  larger  features  of  a  diversified  landscape  are  probably 
the  most  permanent  forms  of  all  topographical  memory, 
but  here  again  slight  elevations  or  depressions  in  the 
ground  seemed  to  be  almost  indelible.  I  could  never  have 
recalled  them  in  the  sense  of  active  recollection,  but  when 
presented  to  sense,  I  remembered  them  with  great  certainty 
and  detail,  as  indeed  I  did  many  peculiar  knolls  in  one  part 
of  the  farm  where  these  abounded,  and  not  a  few  of  the 
best  holes  for  both  fishing  and  swimming  in  the  large  and 
small  brook  which  flowed  through  it.  I  estimate  that  up 
wards  of  four  score  individual  trees  in  the  ten  or  fifteen 
acres  of  woodland  and  in  the  orchard  were  definitely  identi 
fied,  as  were  the  many  groups  of  spruce,  hemlock,  willow, 
and  white  poplar.  One  knoll  strongly  suggested  winter- 
greens,  and  on  going  to  it  there  they  were.  Another  damp 
place  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  brought  to  mind  jacks-in- 
the-pulpit  some  time  before  I  got  there,  and  there  too  they 
were,  though  without  any  sense  of  ever  having  seen  them 
there  before.  Pausing  at  familiar  spots  and  striving  to 
bring  up  associations  with  their  salient  features  rarely 
brought  anything  so  vividly  to  mind  as  what  was  pre« 
sented  to  sense,  but  there  was  often  a  feeling  like  the  glint 
of  partial  or  possible  imagery  as  though  perhaps  there  had 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  305 

been  many  associations  which  had  become  too  felted  to 
gether  to  be  disentangled.  Places  near  the  house  were,  of 
course,  best  known.  Those  near  the  two  roads,  that  nearly 
quartered  the  farm,  and  near  the  footpaths,  driveways, 
and  woodroads  came  next.  Rocks  and  stones  in  these,  and 
indeed  everywhere,  are  the  sheet  anchors  of  this  kind  of 
memory,  as  they  do  not  change.  Special  and  somewhat 
exceptional  features  are  what  evoke  and  start  reminiscent 
imagery,  and  when  these  were  lacking  I  have  sat  long 
studying  places  I  once  knew  most  intimately,  but  have 
been  unable  to  recall  anything. 

Another  class  of  memories  among  the  most  vivid  of  all 
were  those  associated  with  the  strong  instincts  of  play  and 
its  incidents.  Very  many  square  rods  of  ground  where  I 
had  mowed  and  raked  I  could  recall  nothing  of,  while 
another  no  better  marked  spot  shone  out  like  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude,  as  a  place  where  I  had  caught  a  mink, 
built  a  willow  booth,  slid  in  winter,  learned  to  skate, 
pushed  over  my  little  brother,  had  a  long  fight  after  school 
with  another  boy;  made  my  first  effort  to  smoke;  built  a 
bonfire;  played  fox  and  geese  in  winter,  etc.  Over  and 
over  again  this  moral,  that  work  is  forgotten  and  things 
interesting  remembered,  recurred,  although  this  rule,  if 
such  it  be,  is  not  without  important  exceptions.  If  I  re 
membered  where  I  shot  a  crow  I  recall  just  as  well  where 
the  hired  man  hit  me  with  the  ox  whip.  I  remembered 
where  I  found  a  quarter  in  the  road,  and  remembered  quite 
as  well  where  a  team  was  for  some  time  stuck  in  a  snow 
drift  near  by,  which  I  helped  the  men  dig  out.  A  ditch,  a 
bit  of  stone  wall  that  was  built,  a  sugar-house,  changes  in 
the  cellar,  the  stable,  several  new  tools,  the  new  sleigh, 
buggy,  robe,  harness,  and  scores  of  other  such  things  asso 
ciated  more  with  work  than  with  play  seemed  to  stand  out 
almost  as  vividly  as  the  new  sled,  the  new  suits  of  clothes 
and  hats,  little  pleasure  trips,  etc. 


306       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

Another  group  of  reminiscences,  if  such  they  may  be 
called,  were  moods  with  no  definite  picture.  A  kind  of 
open  glen  in  the  woods,  for  instance,  recalled  nothing,  but 
gave  a  very  extraordinary  and  unwonted  sense  of  pleasure 
and  of  previousness.  A  big  dark  rock,  which  I  must  have 
known  intimately,  gave  a  very  substantial  impression  of 
frowning  stability  unique  in  its  emotional  tone,  and  to 
which  I  seemed  to  owe  a  certain  power  of  appreciating 
moral  steadfastness,  although  my  memory  could  only  say 
" perhaps  a  rock  was  here."  The  distant  sight  of  a  group 
of  hemlocks  suggested  that  they  were  striving  to  conceal 
something,  and  this  gave  them  a  kind  of  secretive  char 
acter.  A  large  wide-spreading  beech  that  stood  alone 
brought  up  a  unique  feeling  of  large  and  benignant  gen 
erosity.  The  angle  of  the  woods  against  the  sky  in  one 
place,  behind  which  the  sun  used  to  set,  evoked  with  much 
force  a  sense  of  being  restrained,  limited,  shut  out  from 
something  very  much  desired.  On  entering  the  woods 
from  the  open  lot  there  was  a  sense  of  being  on  more  solemn 
ground  with  an  old  feeling  of  awe  and  hush,  of  being  shut 
in,  of  low-toned  vague  fear  with  indefinite  expectancy. 
The  noj;e  of  a  wood  thrush  very  familiar  there,  which  was 
heard  again,  never  vibrated  so  deeply.  The  view  of  the 
house  as  it  used  to  be,  and  the  open  lot  beyond,  had  an 
almost  human  expression  of  smiling  invitation  that  always 
drew  me  like  a  magnet.  The  noises  of  the  brook,  where  it 
parted  each  side  of  a  large  stone  and  then  paused  in  a  deep 
dark  spot  under  the  willows,  gave  a  sense  of  hurry  and  rest 
very  pleasantly  contrasted;  while  the  brook  always  had 
strange  drawing  power,  and  kept  saying  "come  and  play 
with  me."  An  old  sash  with  small  window  panes,  in  one 
of  which  was  a  peculiar  air  bubble,  instantly  revived  a 
whole  series  of  frost  pictures  that  I  used  to  watch  with 
great  interest  when  they  were  very  elaborate  in  the  morn 
ing  and  as  they  gradually  melted  away,  always  beginning 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  307 

in  the  upper  middle  of  each  pane,  and  letting  in  the  view 
without.  The  scenes  we  used  to  fancy  and  even  draw  in 
the  frost,  and  the  zest  with  which  the  rain  was  watched 
with  a  kind  of  hedonic  narcosis,  as  it  trickled  in  lines  of 
broken  drops  against  these  panes,  have  left  their  marks 
upon  my  soul.  I  believe  that  I  could  fill  a  volume  with 
descriptions  of  things,  processes,  and  incidents  connected 
with  this  place.  The  new  and  striking  generalization  of  all 
the  study  here,  however,  was  that  the ''physical  features  of 
this  old  farm  had  such  amazing  power  to  play  upon  my 
deeper  sentiments  and  emotions.  The  buttercups,  clovers, 
and  many  flowers  and  plants, — all  had  psychic  qualities 
and  definite  expressions;  so  did  the  clouds,  the  rainbows, 
the  rising  and  setting  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  particu 
larly  Orion  and  the  Dipper,  the  noises  of  the  wind,  etc. 
Love,  pity,  deep  dislike,  fear,  religious  awe,  aspiration, 
juvenile  ambition,  directly  stimulated  by  the  excelsior 
motive  of  hill-climbing,  and  every  shade  and  color  of  joy 
and  sorrow,  pleasure  and  pain,  seemed  to  have  been 
brought  out  by  the  items  and  incidents  of  this  environment 
as  a  skilled  musician  evokes  all  the  possibilities  of  his  in 
strument.  I  deem  it  fortunate  to-day  that  I  was  exposed 
to  such  impressions,  and  hold  that  all  the  advantages  of 
city  life  and  of  better  schools  would  have  been  too  dearly 
bought  by  the  sacrifice  of  these.  The  country  is  the  child 's 
heaven,  and  every  child  ought  to  spend  as  much  of  his  life 
as  possible  under  the  influences  of  Nature ;  and  I  doubt  if 
there  has  ever  been  a  better  school  of  infancy  than  the  old 
New  England  farm  in  its  best  days. 

Very  many  of  the  objects  in  this  place  retained  the  very 
vivid  associations  with  the  imagination  which  they  used  to 
have  in  boyhood.  A  dark  closet  with  no  window  always 
seemed  a  little  awful,  because  it  was  associated  with  Blue 
beard,  who  here  slew  his  wife  amidst  a  lot  of  dead  ones. 
A  spot  near  an  elm  in  the  pasture,  otherwise  unmarked, 


308       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

was  where  the  demon  in  the  Arabian  Nights  escaped  from 
the  bottle.  A  steep  acclivity  in  the  mow  land  with  rocks 
and  scrub  trees  was  Bunyan's  "Hill  of  Difficulty,"  and  a 
boggy  place  in  the  cowpath  was  the  "Slough  of  Despond/' 
Moses  lay  amid  the  bulrushes  behind  the  willows  just  below 
the  dam.  Understanding  that  an  altar  was  a  large  pile  of 
stones,  I  pictured  Abraham  about  to  slay  Isaac  near  one 
in  the  east  lot,  and  no  experience  of  my  real  life  is  more 
vividly  associated  with  that  spot.  Not  seeing  very  many 
pictures,  I  made  them,  and  the  features  of  this  farm  were 
the  scenic  background  and  setting  for  many  an  incident 
and  story.  Everything  read  to  me  was  automatically  lo 
cated.  Miss  South  worth's  stories,  which  I  conned  furtively5 
in  ' '  The  Ledger, '  '  all  seemed  to  have  been  laid  out  on  this 
farm,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  castles,  palaces,  under 
ground  passages,  dungeons,  keeps,  etc.  In  a  school  com 
position,  I  parodied  Addison's  "Temple  of  Fame,"  using 
local  personages  and  events,  and  there  it  still  stands  in  all 
its  dazzling  marble  magnificence,  with  its  spires,  bright 
shining  steps,  streaming  banners,  minarets,  massive  col 
umns,  and  a  row  of  altars  within,  on  a  hill  in  our  pasture, 
which  in  fact  is  drearily  overgrown  with  mullen  and 
brakes.  The  "Sleeping  Beauty"  was  just  behind  a  clump 
of  hemlocks.  Under  a  black  rock  in  the  woods  was  where 
the  gnomes  went  in  and  out  from  the  center  of  the  earth. 
My  mother  told  me  tales  from  Shakespeare  and  I  built  a 
Rosalind's  bower  of  willow,  located  Prospero's  rock  and 
Caliban's  den.  Oberon  lived  out  in  the  meadow  in  the 
summer,  but  could  only  be  seen  by  twilight  or  in  the  morn 
ing  before  I  got  up.  There  was  a  hollow  maple  tree  where 
I  fancied  monkeys  lived,  and  I  took  pleasure  in  looking  for 
them  there. 

After  a  gun  was  given  me,  I  peopled  all  the  brush  and 
trees  with  small  and  even  large  game.  One  spot  of  brush 
was  a  jungle,  going  past  which  I  held  my  weapon  ready 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  309 

to  shoot  a  tiger  quick,  if  he  should  spring  out  suddenly  at 
me.  On  one  tree  I  once  saw  a  hawk,  which  I  fired  at  from 
an  impossible  distance,  and  toward  this  I  always  stole  up 
for  years  after,  hoping  to  find  the  same  hawk,  or  if  not 
that,  an  eagle,  or  just  possible  the  great  roc  itself.  This 
gun  was  perhaps  the  most  effective  stimulus  of  the  imagina 
tion  I  ever  had,  for  it  peopled  the  whole  region  about  with 
catamounts,  wolves,  bears,  lynxes,  wild  cats,  and  a  whole 
menagerie  of  larger  animals ;  made  me  the  hero  of  many  a 
fancied  but  thrilling  story;  took  me  over  a  very  much 
wider  area  of  territory  and  helped  a  sort  of  adventurous 
exploring  trait  of  mind,  which  I  think  on  the  whole  may 
be  favorable  to  originality  and  independence.  Moreover, 
it  gave  me  some  knowledge  of  animals  and  their  ways, 
prompted  me  to  make  a  trunkful  of  stuffed  and  otherwise 
prepared  collections  of  the  meager  fauna  of  that  region, 
and  although  it  perhaps  did  not  teach  me  much  natural 
history,  it  gave  me  what  was  better  for  that  stage — a  deep 
sympathy  with,  and  interest  in,  animals  and  all  their  ways, 
which  now  quickens  my  interest  in  the  psychology  of  in 
stinct.  Although  it  aroused  a  passion  for  killing,  which 
is  anything  but  commendable,  it  may  have  stimulated  the 
very  strong  reaction  of  later  years,  which  now  makes  it 
almost  impossible  for  me  to  give  pain  to  any  animal. 

In  another  group  perhaps  may  be  placed  revivals  of 
things  long  since  entirely  vanished — an  old  hollow  log 
here,  a  rock  long  ago  blasted  away,  the  details  of  every 
room  in  the  long  since  demolished  house,  the  garden,  espe 
cially  its  more  permanent  features,  the  vanished  orchard, 
etc.  In  many  such  cases  the  environment  has  brought  up 
the  missing  thing  so  vividly  that  were  it  installed  into 
objective  reality  just  as  it  was  fancied,  I  think  little  correc 
tion  would  be  needed.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  a 
number  of  items  of  vanished  things  which  I  had  entirely 
forgotten,  quite  as  prominent  as  these  and  as  closely  con- 


310       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

nected  with  my  life,  which  have  been  furnished  by  my 
sister,  but  are  now  so  well  incorporated  in  my  memory 
plexus  that  they  seem  to  be  reinstated  just  as  securely  and 
naturally  as  those  images  which  I  had  preserved  without 
aid. 

Another  feature  was  the  element  of  personality  about 
certain  objects,  which  the  faint  traces  that  I  am  now  able 
to  recall  show  that  it  must  once  have  been  very  strong. 
Three  white  stones  in  the  buttress  of  a  bridge,  with  no 
resemblance  whatever  to  a  face,  always  gave  me  the  im 
pression  of  being  pleased,  satisfied,  contented,  and  constant. 
A  large  window  in  the  barn  was  broad  and  smiled  forth 
its  good  will  upon  all  passers-by.  A  tall  slender  young 
tree  near  the  house  seemed  inspired  with  ambition  to  mount 
as  high  as  possible  and  to  exercise  guardian  and  protective 
functions.  A  sharp  steep  hill  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  in 
front  seemed  to  frown,  threaten  and  repel,  but  an  open 
flat,  which  extended  still  farther  up  by  the  brook  side, 
invited  and  almost  beckoned  us  to  walk  up  it.  A  crooked 
tree  seemed  tense,  dissatisfied,  unhappy,  and  another  with 
low  branches  always  invited  us  to  climb  and  took  pleasure 
in  having  us  in  its  limbs.  When  the  wind  blew,  this  tree 
talked  to  us  and  we  patted  it.  The  horses,  sheep,  cows, 
pigs  and  hens,  all  had  individual  traits  and  character  and 
many  of  them  had  names  I  even  now  recall.  Some  were 
feared,  others  hated,  and  yet  others  loved;  while  some 
possessed  only  indifferent  qualities.  We  were  never  alone 
when  in  their  company,  and  there  was  always  a  relief,  espe 
cially  if  it  was  a  little  dark,  in  finding  them  in  the  pasture. 
One  whole  chapter  could  be  written  upon  the  celestial 
experiences;  the  peculiar  sunsets  which  invited  us  or  sug 
gested  the  Judgment  Day;  the  storms  of  rain,  snow  and 
hail,  with  thunder;  the  wind  with  all  its  notes  and  noises 
in  the  trees  and  down  the  chimney;  and  especially  the 
clouds  with  all  their  peerless  schooling  for  the  imagina- 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  311 

tion.  Everything  conceivable  almost  was  seen  in  their 
forms  and  they  contributed  even  more  than  thunder  to  give 
a  sense  of  reality  above. 

Some  of  the  objects  upon  this  farm  which  came  home 
very  distinctly  to  the  mind,  I  believe,  were  of  things  I  never 
had  directly  in  the  focus  of  attention  but  were  known  in 
indirect  thinking  as  automatic  side  activities.  Often  when 
meditating  on  a  subject  or  intent  upon  a  strong  experience 
of  pleasure  or  pain,  I  used  to  catch  my  mind  at  a  totally 
irrelevant  perceptive  process  and  would  almost  ejaculate 
the  word  "by"  the  window,  tree,  or  whatever  object  this 
latter  process  concerned.  This  was  a  unique  and  oft- 
repeated  experience,  and  I  cannot  with  confidence  explain 
the  connotations  of  this  word  that  spontaneously  came  to 
designate  it.  It  was  when  an  alien  impression  was  injected 
into  a  train  of  thought  and  perhaps  when  two  disparate 
psychoses  were  contemporaneously  in  the  mind.  I  think 
the  "by"  meant  "halloo"  clock,  post,  or  whatever  it  was, 
"you  are  thrusting  yourself  upon  a  train  of  associations 
where  you  do  not  belong,"  unless  by  way  of  a  kind  of 
punctuation  or  cross-association. 

Retracing  the  same  path  and  also  carefully  rethinking 
all  that  it  suggested,  step  by  step,  often  brought  out  a  new 
crop  of  memories.  All  these  from  this  or  any  other  source 
needed  but  very  little  effort  to  be  fixed.  Indeed  on  read 
ing  over  my  notebook  items,  I  find  not  only  little  help  from 
it,  but  I  can  generally  go  beyond  it  and  add  new  points. 
Hence  comes  the  impression  that  were  I  to  spend  some 
weeks  on  the  old  places  new  impressions  would  continue  to 
arise.  Almost  everything  had  a  mnemonic  value  and  dur 
ing  how  many  repetitions  this  fecundity  would  continue, 
it  is  impossible  to  tell. 

Again  all  the  distances  seemed  less;  the  hills  were 
smaller ;  the  effort  of  walking  above  the  woods  and  to  other 
extreme  points  of  the  farm  was  not  so  great  as  at  the  age 


312       RECREATIONS  OP  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

of  eleven  or  twelve.    Perhaps  part  of  this  is  due  to  a  rather 
robust  muscular  habit  that  has  grown  wonted  to  consider 
able  exercise  and  to  much  longer  walks,  but  I  am  inclined 
to  think  a  part  of  it  must  be  explained  as  due  to  a  develop 
ment  of  larger  space  experiences  which  made  the  "whole 
place  seem  small.     Eye-minded  impressions  have  in  my 
sedentary  life  grown  yet  faster  than  motive  impressions. 
The  general  outlines  and  large  relations  and  directions  of 
things  rarely  needed  reconstruction.    Envisagement  mainly 
filled  in  details  and  revived  old  memories.    ' '  Yes,  there  was 
a  tree  here,  a  nutting  place,  a  cow  path,  blackberries,  a 
curious  stone  there,  this  was  the  old  door  hook  which  it  is  a 
certain  pleasure  to  rescue  from  entire  forgetfulness,  the 
same  old  stone  wall  half  torn  away  remains. ' '    The  pleasure 
in  making  these  identifications  was  so  strong  as  to  prompt 
me  to  wish  to  buy  back  the  old  farm,  build  a  study  and 
work  here;  or  perhaps  to  read,  think,  or  even  write  at 
different  places  giving  the  mind  some  opportunity  to  wool- 
gather  and  letting  revery  have  a  long  line,  partly  to  revel 
in  the  pleasure  of  revival  and  partly  from  a  feeling  that 
one  could  do  intellectual  work  here  with  some  special  ad 
vantage.    Do  such  revivals  link  the  present  and  past  in  a 
sanif ying,  useful,  restful  or  tonic  way  f    Do  they  strengthen 
the  cornerstones  of  the  mind  and  soul  or  ought  these  ruined 
memories  to  be  left  to  fall  away,  while  mental  energy  is 
devoted  to  more  serious  work  in  later  adult  years  ?    Would 
the  revivals  of  such  associations  not  tend  powerfully  to 
correct  some  types  of  slowly  supervening  insanity,  if  the 
soul  was  sound  when  these  impressions  were  first  knit  to 
gether?     Wherein  consist  the  surprising  memories  of  the 
ups  and  downs  of  such  curving  ground?     Is  it  primarily 
retinal  as,  of  course,  the  larger  features  must  be,  or  is  it 
partly  seated  in  the  centers  innervating  the  leg  movement 
of  running  over  or  up  and  down  it?    Is  it  really  advan 
tageous  to  carry  such  permanent  topographic  maps  on  the 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  813 

brain,  scrappy,  dog-eared,  blurred  and  half  effaced  as  they 
are,  or  is  the  fascination  of  these  ruins  the  charm  of  decay  ? 

In  general,  I  find  most  of  my  sister's  memories  cluster 
about  the  house,  where  they  are  detailed  and  minute,  while 
my  own  are  much  fuller  of  the  farm.  On  the  whole  I  was 
perhaps  even  more  surprised  at  what  I  could  recall  than 
at  what  I  could  not.  Memory  seems  more  permanent  than 
anything  else  on  this  place,  save  the  general  features  of 
the  landscape.  Washouts  have  exposed  some  rocks  and 
sunk  others;  little  forests  are  beginning  to  grow  up  and 
part  of  the  old  one  is  removed;  man  has  leveled,  cleared 
away,  filled  up,  put  up  and  destroyed  buildings  and  walls, 
but  memory  remains  true  to  its  past. 

Of  the  educational  value  of  the  inventory  of  my  impres 
sions  of  this  farm,  it  is  hard  to  speak.  The  deeper  things 
like  the  discipline  of  toil,  the  pleasure  of  rest  and  recrea 
tion,  the  seriousness  of  religious  experience,  the  communion 
with  nature ; — all  these  did  their  work  and  molded  the  soul, 
but  have  left  few  pictures.  Very  many  of  the  latter  are 
concerned  with  items  which  might  have  been  very  different 
with  little  obvious  change  in  evaluation.  The  memories  of 
this  period,  while  very  numerous  and  distinct,  may  have 
less  emotional  tone  than  the  obscure  and  uncertain  recru 
descences  on  Farm  I;  and  yet  very  frequently  strong  im 
pressions  of  father,  mother,  brother,  and  sister  would  re 
turn  with  pathetic  emphasis.  There  was  here  a  distinct 
and  all-pervading  sense  of  sadness  that  all  was  gone  and 
forever  past  recall ;  and  yet,  when  I  frequently  asked  my 
self  whether  on  any  conditions  I  would  be  put  back  as  a 
child  and  live  it  over,  I  was  able  to  think  of  no  conditions 
on  which  I  would  consent  to  any  such  repetition.  What 
then  is  the  origin  of  this  peculiarly  somber  hue  of  the 
"days  that  are  no  more"?  It  is  surely  not  all  because  we 
know  they  might  have  been  better  lived,  nor  is  it  because 
maturity  has  not  still  greater  joys  than  they,  nor  yet  again 


314       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

all  because  pleasant  impressions  abide  and  painful  ones  are 
forgotten  so  that  blessings  brighten  as  they  take  their 
flight.  Childhood  is  the  paradise  of  the  race  from  which 
adult  life  is  a  fall.  Childhood  is  far  more  generic  in  body 
and  soul  than  even  woman,  just  as  she  is  more  so  than 
adult  man.  The  "shades  of  the  prison  house5'  are  the  in 
evitable  specializations  necessary  in  becoming  a  member  of 
the  community,  and  I  am  quite  clear  in  the  opinion  that 
the  fascination  which  the  memories  of  a  happy  childhood 
always  exercise  upon  the  mature  mind  is  due  to  the  dim 
sense  that  in  those  halcyon  days  we  were  more  complete 
and  all-sided,  more  adequate  representatives  of  the  race. 
The  other  charm  seems  due  to  the  sensuous  life  of  child 
hood,  which  is  all  ear  and  eye,  curiosity,  interest,  which 
devotes  all  its  energies  not  to  a  bitter  struggle  for  exist 
ence  or  the  intellectual  working  over  of  impressions,  but 
surrenders  itself  with  abandon  to  the  impressions  them 
selves.  This  and,  to  some  extent,  the  next  farm  were  my 
earthly  paradise,  and  although  in  the  current  that  has  long 
so  strongly  impelled  young  rustics  toward  more  urban 
centers  I  have  wandered  and  fallen  far,  I  hark  back  to  all 
the  old  local  associations  in  these  spots  with  a  piety  that 
is  almost  filial  toward  the  very  trees  and  rocks. 

On  Farm  III  I  spent  a  number  of  months  each  year 
from  eight  to  thirteen.  It  comprised  some  four  hundred 
acres  and  joined  several  others  with  which  I  became  quite 
familiar,  as  they  were  owned  by  relatives.  Of  one  aban 
doned  house  into  which  I  climbed,  I  still  preserved  a  dis 
tinct  memory  of  every  door  and  window,  could  have  drawn 
the  rooms  and  replaced  most  of  the  furniture.  The  inter 
esting  revivals,  which  I  am  sure  could  not  have  been  in  my 
mind  for  decades,  were  details  like  a  peculiar  door  knob 
with  a  defect  in  it;  a  cross  beam  in  the  kitchen  with  a 
peculiar  pattern  of  paper  which  I  discovered  by  tearing 
off  two  later  superposed  wall-papers;  several  peculiarities 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  315 

about  the  cellar  stairs;  a  white  stone  in  the  wall  of  the 
well ;  a  hollow  in  a  door  step ;  a  bullet  hole  in  a  shed ;  and 
many  others  of  the  same  kind.  Often  I  was  at  first  un 
certain  about  these,  but  they  generally  soon  grew  clear.  In 
one  room  there  was  an  almost  imperative  association  of  col 
lective  prayer  and  of  a  quilting  bee ;  in  another  of  a  baby 
in  a  cradle,  a  young  lady  and  her  beau  sitting  on  a  black 
hair  sofa,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  any  reminiscent  feel 
ing,  although  each  of  these  items  quite  likely  was  really 
experienced.  Still  more  dim  are  fragmentary  images  of 
people  sitting  around ;  of  some  one  in  the  morning  coming 
out  a  side  door,  rarely  opened,  to  pick  flowers;  of  some 
thing  exceptionally  good  to  eat;  of  something  else  very 
interesting  kept  on  the  stairs;  of  some  curious  kind  of  an 
animal  in  the  sink,  etc.  Of  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms 
upstairs,  where  I  often  slept,  I  could  recall  nothing  what 
ever. 

Another  once  familiar,  but  now  abandoned,  house  into 
which  I  climbed  produced  like  this  a  tangled  meshwork  of 
memories,  which  seemed  to  interfere  with  each  other,  so 
that  when  I  often  thought  I  had  found  a  clew,  it  was  hard 
to  bring  definite  images  above  the  threshold,  but  there  was 
a  vague,  massive  feeling  of  reminiscence  that  was  overpow 
ering,  full  of  interest  toned  with  both  pleasure  and  pain. 
Here  I  unexpectedly  came  across  an  old  school  seat  and 
desk  which  I  instantly  recognized  as  from  the  old  school- 
house.  A  broken  hearth  of  an  old  stove  had  a  striking  pat 
tern  which  shone  out  with  great  vividness,  and  which  my 
eyes  as  a  boy  used  to  be  very  fond  of  tracing  out  in  revery, 
and  I  instantly  recalled  just  how  it  stood  in  another  house. 
A  lot  of  rude  abandoned  sap  tubs  from  which  as  a  boy  I 
used  to  help  make  maple  sugar,  and  the  general  patterns 
and  certain  individual  tubs  were  clearly  remembered.  A 
very  antique  chair,  bottomed  and  backed  with  woven 
strands  of  braided  colored  rags;  an  old  stool  which  my 


316       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

grandfather  often  used  in  lying  down ;  the  broken  part  of 
the  colored  glass  of  the  old  clock ;  the  funny  snapping  appa 
ratus  of  an  old  reel ;  the  knot  which  made  a  defect  in  the 
cheese  basket ;  a  curious  red  salting  box ;  the  door  of  a  cat 
hole  also  with  a  curious  knot  in  it ;  a  blind  window ;  a  crack 
through  the  broad  hearthstone;  a  discolored  spot  in  the 
ceiling;  the  mark  of  my  knife  in  the  woodshed  door;  the 
one  imperfect  brick  in  the  back  of  the  fireplace — these 
things  suggested  to  my  mind  that  objects,  rarely  and  per 
haps  never  in  the  exact  focus  of  consciousness,  but  about 
which  daydreaming  and  absent-minded  revery  no  doubt 
played  a  great  deal,  constitute  a  large  factor  of  such  mem 
ories.  Irregular  forms,  like  knot  holes  and  exudations  of 
gum,  especially  from  spruce  boards,  imperfections  in  bricks, 
corner  stones,  clapboards,  unsymmetrical  trees,  were  con 
venient  perching  points  for  the  flitting  imagination,  and 
perhaps  points  de  repere  for  quite  elaborate  structures  of 
fancy,  like  the  ink  blotches  of  the  psychophysic  laboratory. 
At  any  rate,  I  doubt  if  such  objects  as  these  were  ever  the 
centers  of  so  concentrated  attention  and  so  much  or  so  long 
continued  interest  with  me  before. 

Passing  to  the  house  of  Farm  III,  itself  temporarily 
closed,  but  with  some  of  the  old  furniture  still  remaining, 
and  through  every  room  of  which  I  slowly  went  alone, 
notebook  in  hand,  memories  crowded  very  thickly  with  the 
opening  of  every  new  door,  and  seemed  almost  to  assume 
the  vividness  of  sense  impressions.  The  old  parlor  paint 
never  looked  so  white,  the  castellated  old  stove,  almost 
never  used  except  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  was  still  there; 
on  this  side  lay  my  grandfather  and  here  my  aunt  in  their 
coffins;  the  old  mirror  with  its  wide  mahogany  frame  still 
had  the  little  crack  in  the  corner,  which  was  even  better 
remembered  than  the  mirror  itself ;  the  smaller  long  narrow 
one  with  its  gilt  and  black  frame  and  the  gaudy  flowers 
painted  in  the  glass  of  the  upper  part ;  the  red  table  which 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMOEIES  317 

still  showed  my  ink  spot  on  it;  the  old  daguerreotypes; 
the  carpet ;  wall  paper ;  mahogany  sofa ;  the  same  old  black 
books,  Clark's  Sermons,  Baxter's  Call,  Bunyan's 
Holy  War;  the  yellow  boards  and  the  bird's-eye  maple 
cane-seated  parlor  chairs ;  the  large-figured  red  carpet ;  the 
curious  bulge  in  the  post  of  the  old  mahogany  stand,  with  its 
two  yellow  drawers  with  their  two  small  mahogany  handles 
each;  the  big  red  pincushion  built  on  a  broken  glass  lamp 
stand — were  well  remembered  images  in  this  room  unvisited 
for  at  least  forty  years.  In  the  sitting-room,  where  far 
more  time  was  spent  and  which  had  been  frequently  revis 
ited  in  the  interval,  I  could  not  do  as  well,  although  I  was 
able  to  jot  down  over  seventy  partial  old  memories  of 
scenes  and  events  connected  with  that  room.  Occasionally 
things  I  had  first  thought  new,  like  the  stone  floor  of  the 
cellar,  the  place  of  the  various  bins  and  cider  barrels,  were 
later  remembered.  Here  trifling  things  almost  flashed  back, 
which  I  cannot  think  had  been  recalled  for  decades,  such 
as  a  peculiar  latch  fastening ;  curious  round-turned  curtain 
holders;  a  milk  stool  with  block  and  peg  identified  by  a 
knot;  a  very  old-fashioned  green,  black  and  red  wagon;  a 
large  and  curiously  broken  rock  in  the  pasture  wall;  a 
cracked  and  worn-out  ring  in  a  discarded  ox  yoke ;  a  four- 
sided  razor  strop,  red  gum  in  one  end  and  the  handle 
broken;  a  few  square  yards  of  very  stunted  little  daisies 
back  of  the  barn ;  the  same  old  woodchuck  holes  almost  al 
ways  in  the  same  places. 

Some  associations  experienced  very  vivid  revival.  On  en- 
tering  the  cellar,  the  first  thought  was  of  a  pitcher  of  cider 
I  had  fallen  with  and  broken;  the  next  of  an  old  apple 
parer;  the  next  of  a  relative,  I  had  often  heard  of,  who 
long  ago  fell  down  the  stairs  of  the  old  house  and  broke 
her  neck;  then  of  a  musk  rat  I  once  caught  at  the  mouth 
of  the  cellar  drain ;  next  of  the  peculiar  flavor  and  look  of 
three  of  my  favorite  apples,  one  of  which  was  of  almost 


318       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

delusive  intensity;  the  rows  of  barrels  of  apples  with  a 
slightly  purple  tinge ;  of  something  very  curious  that  once 
happened  outdoors  and  which  I  saw  through  the  cellar  win 
dow,  but  the  very  nature  of  which  I  could  not  recall ;  of  an 
other  something  exceptional  that  once  stood  for  a  long  time 
on  the  east  side,  and  of  something  that  hung  from  a  cellar 
beam  at  a  pretty  well  located  point,  but  whether  a  hanging 
shelf,  cupboard,  dressed  pig,  or  a  cask  of  home  brewed 
beer,  I  could  not  recall,  try  as  I  would;  the  front  window 
event  may  have  been  getting  in  potatoes  or  apples,  clearing 
out  the  cellar,  shoveling  snow  away  to  let  the  light  in,  a 
game,  or  a  team  driving  up  with  company.  The  spacial 
reference  was  definite,  but  my  brain  functions  here  are  in 
a  state  of  unrestorable  ruin,  for  they  enabled  me  to  mark 
nothing  but  the  site,  where  once  something  stood,  sug 
gesting  a  prepotency  or  rather  a  prepermanence  of  site 
location. 

In  wandering  over  this  rocky,  hilly  and  very  diversified 
farm,  almost  every  square  rod  of  which  had  features  all  its 
own,  my  notebook  was  rapidly  filled  with  the  flotsam  and 
jetsam  of  reminiscences.  Sometimes  the  outline  of  a  hill 
or  a  whole  perspective  glowed  up,  but  more  often  it  was 
some  insignificant  detail  or  incident.  There  was  a  spring 
once  piped  to  the  house  and  later  to  a  tub  near  by,  annually 
cleaned,  which  I  knew  well,  with  the  trodden  cattle  path  to 
and  about  it  in  winter  and  its  cooling  draughts  in  haying; 
but  the  brightest  memory  was  of  a  story  I  had  heard  that 
once  a  dead  muskrat  was  found  in  it.  Here  was  an  old 
wall  with  a  high  shady  rock  cracked  a  foot  in  the  middle 
to  which  I  carried  the  nine  o  'clock  baiting  to  the  half  dozen 
men,  who  had  already  swung  their  scythes  in  unison  for 
three  hours,  and  who  here  paused  fifteen  minutes  to  drink 
water  with  vinegar,  molasses  and  ginger  and  eat  the  thick 
quarters  of  apple  pie.  In  one  corner  as  a  boy  my  grand 
father  had  told  me  he  saw  a  bear;  here  he  caught  a  coon; 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  319 

there  grew  the  fever  plants;  there  was  a  stony  acre  over 
grown  with  poison  ivy  which  I  loved  to  travel  barefoot  to 
show  my  immunity ;  two  cellar  holes  rich  to  a  boy  in  inter 
ests  with  woodchucks,  squirrels,  lilacs,  birds'  nests,  apples, 
and  a  little  brook  running  through  its  garden  corner 
where  I  made  a  toy  sawmill  that  would  cut  potato  boards ; 
there  was  a  small  hill  thickly  strewn  with  heavy  white 
quartz  boulders;  a  rocky  corner  famous  for  raspberries, 
another  for  thistles  and  yellow  birds ;  a  beech  crowned  hill 
where  the  three  species  of  woodpecker  abounded ;  the  light 
ning  ash  tree ;  adder  tongue  knoll ;  lightning  rock ;  the  win- 
tergreen  and  running  pine  places ;  the  strange  isolated  rods 
'jf  rank  Texas  blue  grass;  the  sugar  house  nearly  a  mile 
from  everything  with  all  its  rich  associations;  the  many 
cows,  calves,  horses,  oxen,  and  pigs,  whose  individuality 
is  still  preserved;  the  large  pond,  now  a  meadow,  with 
many  incidents  of  fishing,  swimming,  skating  and  trapping  ; 
the  solitary  sheep  barn,  which,  populous  as  it  was,  needed 
to  be  visited  only  once  a  week ;  the  half  dozen  barns  I  knew 
so  well,  and  which  in  the  winter  when  they  were  full  of 
poultry  and  stock  were  so  full  of  interest ;  the  places  where 
soap,  shingles,  cheese  were  made ;  the  butchering  and  hunt 
ing  incidents;  the  long  and  dreadful  Sundays  with  my 
grandfather's  tedious  stereotyped  prayer,  the  slowly  ap 
proaching  close  of  which  was  so  welcome;  his  mighty  bowl 
of  milk ;  the  weekly  dressing  of  his  hair,  braided  very  elab 
orately  up  over  his  bald  crown;  my  making  of  complete 
palm  leaf  hats;  my  crude  skill  at  the  accordion;  flageolet, 
fiddle,  bones,  double  shuffling;  my  soprano  performance 
at  the  singing  school;  the  details  of  sheep  washing,  shear 
ing,  breaking  colts;  quilting,  husking,  apple  paring,  road 
mending  bees  and  raisings;  the  kitchen  dances  Thanksgiv 
ing  ;  the  Thursday  evening  prayer  meeting  in  the  old  school- 
house  ;  the  two  dozen  herbs  in  the  garret  for  medicinal  pur 
poses;  fence  mending,  road  breaking,  laying  in  wood;  the 


320      RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

stories  of  the  winter  choppers  by  the  fireplace;  the  long, 
discourses  of  one  of  them  to  me  after  I  had  gone  to  bed 
about  the  impending  second  coming  of  the  Lord;  several 
new  buildings;  the  tearing  down  of  an  old  house  which  I 
knew  well  till  five  by  frequent  visits,  but  of  which  nothing 
whatever  remains  except  the  memory  of  a  funny  old  wooden 
latch  with  a  string  through  a  hole : — such  lists  which  could 
be  greatly  extended  showed  me  plainly  that  starting  from 
such  centers  and  working  along  association  tracks  as  I  sit 
in  my  study  afterwards  may  be  quite  as  prolific  for  the 
period  represented  by  this  farm  as  reiterated  personal  vis 
itations  and  efforts  of  recall  made  on  the  spot. 

In  meeting  schoolmates  of  these  and  later  days,  I  am 
often  struck  with  illustrations  of  what  I  believe  to  be  a 
general  law,  viz.,  those  who  finished  their  education  at  the 
district  school  retain  far  more  vivid  and  detailed  incidents 
of  school  life  up  to  that  period  than  those  who  go  on  fur 
ther.  In  reunions  of  classmates  of  high  and  fitting  schools, 
who  ended  their  education  at  this  stage,  I  find  that  their 
memories  are  more  copious  and  retentive  than  mine.  Those 
who  stop  at  college,  and  again  those  who  end  study  at  the 
professional  school  without  subsequent  graduate  or  uni 
versity  study  at  home  or  abroad — all  illustrate  the  same 
principle,  that  each  advancing  stage  of  schooling  tends  to 
obliterate  memories  of  the  preceding  stage. 

With  regard  to  the  utility  or  mental  hygiene  of  persis 
tent  efforts  at  revivals  like  the  above,  which  may  have  in 
volved  something  we  can  figure  as  regenerative  tensions  of 
decadent  structures,  it  is  clear  to  me  that  such  interests  are 
for  the  time  a  most  salutary  kind  of  diversion  from  the 
overwork  of  a  year.  The  distraction  seems  wholesome,  but 
if  carried  too  far  it  may  tend  to  diminish  the  vigor  of  later 
acquired  interests  or  knowledge,  and  help  toward  the  puer 
ile  tendencies  often  seen  in  senescence.  Such  memories 
as  these  probably  linger  latest  amid  the  declining  functions 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  321 

of  extreme  old  age,  when  later  attainments  are  first  swept 
away.  Much  ought  to  be  forgotten  and  the  very  neural 
structure  plastically  wrought  over  into  new  shape.  Too 
great  persistence  of  juvenile  impressions  may  retard  men 
tal  development,  and  too  much  accretion  of  such  barnacle- 
like  traces  of  experience  may  distinctly  handicap  the  up 
ward  push  of  the  soul  toward  an  ever  more  complete  ma 
turity.  The  psychology  of  forgetting  is  in  the  main  yet 
to  be  written ;  perhaps  the  Wagnerian  Parsifal,  who  at  the 
dawn  of  manhood  was  able  to  recall  almost  nothing  what 
ever  of  his  early  life,  represents  a  more  normal  type  than 
most  of  us,  or  at  least  than  I  do.  If  Spencer's  conception 
of  memory  as  instinct  in  the  making  be  correct,  such  recol 
lections  are  the  crude  material  of  higher  powers,  which 
have  undergone  arrest  or  abortion  on  their  way.  They  are 
the  unutilized  remainders  of  our  culture.  Is  there  after  all 
any  value,  when  I  have  a  distinct  experience  of  envisage- 
ment  with  some  of  these  objects  with  all  the  pleasure  that 
attends  it,  in  the  attendant  sense  that  I  have  envisaged  it 
before  ? 

On  this  farm  my  boyhood  memories  seem  most  distinct 
and  numerous,  although  I  was  less  familiar  with  it  than 
with  Farms  II  and  IV.  This  was  in  part  due  to  its  greater 
size  and  diversification,  the  larger  number  of  persons  and 
activities  going  on,  but  also  I  think  in  part  to  the  fact  that 
my  stays  here  were  intermittent,  usually  only  a  few  weeks 
or  months  at  a  time,  so  that  experiences  here  became  less 
monotonous  and  there  were  more  of  the  intensifying  effects 
of  novelty. 

My  notebooks  abound  in  associations  of  taste  and  smell, 
both  of  which  are  very  fecund.  Caraway  brings  back  viv 
idly  to  me  anywhere  the  soul  of  my  experiences  with  the 
Puritan  Sunday  church  services,  and  the  three  distinct 
kinds  of  cookies  which  I  should  instantly  identify  any 
where.  The  sight,  smell  and  taste  of  catnip  is  a  whole 


322       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

plexus  of  feeling  rather  than  distinct  memories  of  my  aunt, 
mother,  the  white  and  yellow  bowls,  my  drinking  of  it  sit 
ting  up  in  bed  for  a  cold,  etc.  So  peppermint,  spearmint, 
the  taste  of  the  yellow  birch  bark,  the  life  everlasting,  the 
sweet  flag  pods,  slippery  elm,  the  new  grown  raspberry 
stems,  the  so-called  cheeses  of  the  little  barnyard  plant, 
beechnuts,  the  medicine  made  of  cherry  twigs,  the  taste  of 
certain  apples  known  nowhere  else,  the  smell  of  penny 
royal,  the  barnyard,  the  breath  of  cows,  of  corn  silks,  new 
mown  hay,  brakes,  freshly  turned  sod,  burnt  over  pastures, 
spruce  gum,  the  varnish  smell  of  the  coffin  shop,  the  odor  of 
pines,  the  taste  of  maple  sap,  sage,  sorrel — bring  up 
strange  uncertain  moods  with  quaintly  accented  emotional 
tones  which  suggest  that  the  latter  are  perhaps  the  accumu 
lated  mold  of  long  past  years  of  intellection,  the  felted  de 
bris  of  vanished  experiences,  the  stratification  of  past  ages 
of  life  deposited  in  layers.  I  attended  to  many  auditory 
impressions  to  which  I  sought  to  give  opportunities  of  re 
vival,  when  they  seemed  peculiar  to  this  stage  of  my  life. 
The  sound  of  the  brook  in  certain  places ;  the  tones  of  the 
wind  blowing  through  trees,  especially  pines;  the  song  of 
several  birds  rarely  heard  since  childhood;  the  whistle  of 
the  woodchuck ;  the  drumming  of  the  partridge ;  some  pecu 
liarities  in  the  thunder  at  one  house  on  a  high  hill ;  the  call 
ing  of  cattle  of  the  different  species;  the  aspirated  screech 
of  the  henhawk;  the  bubble  of  the  sugar  pan — all  these 
showed  again  the  close  association  of  sounds  with  feelings. 
On  Farm  IV,  where  we  moved  when  I  was  eleven  and 
one  half  years,  and  which  was  my  constant  home  for  nearly 
four  years  and  my  intermittent  home  ever  since,  my  system 
atic  exploration  began  on  one  of  the  pleasantest  mornings 
of  early  autumn,  with  the  sky  a  perfect  blue,  with  a  wide 
horizon  of  hills  stretching  from  fifty  to  seventy  miles,  and 
some  twenty-two  shades  of  green  as  I  thought  distinguish 
able  in  the  landscape.  These  one  hundred  acres  I  own  and 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  323 

have  a  great  piety  toward,  and  I  would  not  part  with 
them  for  many  times  their  very  modest  value.  From  noth 
ing  I  ever  possessed  do  I  derive  such  helpful  and  sanifying 
influences,  partly  because  -it  is  land  and  partly  because  of 
its  associations.  I  have  plowed  or  mowed,  made  fences, 
ditched,  harvested,  or  followed  cattle  over  nearly  every  foot 
of  it.  When  worn  out  with  work,  worry,  or  grief,  and 
sometimes  if  ill,  I  have  gone  to  this  farm,  contact  with 
the  broad  surfaces  of  which  has  never  yet  failed  to  speedily 
set  me  up.  I  own  it,  and  it  owns  me  in  a  sacred  and  unique 
sense.  Just  as  nowadays  those  who  ride  behind  a  horse 
with  a  coachman  do  not  know  it  as  did  those  of  old  who 
rode  on  it,  trained  it,  hunted  and  slept  with  it,  owed  their 
lives  perhaps  to  its  speed,  and  so  owned  it  in  a  unique  and 
individual  sense;  so  I  own  this  farm,  in  a  way,  too,  that 
refutes  at  least  in  one  sense  the  argument  of  those  who 
advocate  public  ownership  of  land.  The  rooms  of  death, 
the  almost  absolute  stillness  that  now  reigns  here;  the  old 
awe  and  vague  dread  of  the  evening  gloaming,  which  I  have 
lately  reexperienced,  bring  a  sadness  so  sickly  sweet  that  I 
can  hardly  tolerate  it — and  yet  it  all  has  after  all  a  won 
drous  charm.  What,  too,  are  the  psychological  sources  and 
what  are  the  stages  in  the  hereditary  development  of  that 
strong  passion  to  improve  land,  never  so  fervent  and  domi 
nant  as  in  the  early  periods  of  New  England  ?  Whence  this 
rancor  against  forests  and  brush  that  even  yet  forbids  us 
the  comfort  of  roadside  shade  or  the  beauty  of  roadside 
growths?  Very  rarely  in  the  history  of  the  world  has 
worse  soil  been  cleared  of  brush  and  stones  and  made  to 
yield  a  tolerable  income  and  supported  a  more  stalwart  or 
intelligent  race.  To  come  upon  a  decayed  stump  where 
once  was  a  familiar  tree  was  a  little  like  finding  on  a  grave 
stone  the  name  of  some  old  acquaintance  who  was  thought 
to  be  still  alive.  I  climbed  several  old  trees  with  the 
branches  of  which  I  was  most  intimate  when  a  boy;  got 


324       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

on  to  roofs  I  used  to  frequent;  crawled  under  the  barn 
floor;  squeezed  into  the  hollow  trees  in  quest  of  memories. 
I  spent  a  number  of  hours  here  carefully  studying  and 
making  notes  on  two  inches  square  of  ground  chosen  al 
most  at  random,  counting  each  blade  and  root  of  each 
growth,  distinguishing  last  year's  dead  from  that  of  the 
year  before;  watching  the  ants  of  at  least  three  species; 
slowly  penetrating  under  a  magnifying  glass  into  the  soil, 
noting  the  different  forms  of  sand-grains  and  fine  pebbles; 
tracing  out  the  ant  hole,  and  also  coming  upon  a  white 
grub ;  going  through  the  shallow  mold  where  was  an  angle 
worm,  as  a  representative  of  the  species  through  the  body 
of  which  Darwin  thinks  this  mold  has  often  passed,  to  the 
red  sandy  earth  beneath,  and  realizing  what  a  rich  book 
could  be  written  on  all  that  those  two  inches  square  con 
tain.  Up  in  the  woods  and  grove  I  believe  I  could  distin 
guish  with  eyes  closed  the  poplar,  pine,  beech,  and  perhaps 
other  trees,  by  the  noise  of  the  wind  through  them.  Per 
haps  I  had  better  make  my  confession  complete.  During 
the  days  on  this  farm  I  soon  gave  up  wearing  my  hat,  for 
it  shut  off  the  view  above  and  obstructed  the  susurrous  of 
forest  music,  so  that  the  ears  had  a  freer  feeling  without  it. 
Soon  the  coat  came  off,  for  the  heat,  then  the  vest.  The 
collar  was  hot  and  sweaty  and  was  loosened.  The  spirit 
of  boyhood  was  on  me,  and  I  suddenly  preferred  to  carry 
my  shoes  and  stockings  in  my  hands.  There  must  have 
been  forty  kinds  of  feel  and  tickle  to  the  feet  in  the  various 
rough  and  smooth  rocks,  sand,  clay,  hot  and  cold  bits  of 
roadway,  diverse  species  of  moss,  grass  and  stubble,  in  the 
puddles  and  brook,  the  leaves  and  pine  needles;  so  that  I 
not  only  revived  memories  of  barefoot  days,  but  realized 
what  an  important  surface  of  contact  man  loses  and  by 
how  many  stages  he  is  removed  from  nature  by  shoes.  As 
I  was  sure  to  be  alone  I  concluded  that  pants  only  and  those 
rolled  to  the  knee  would  be  enough  and  to  spare.  The 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  325 

contacts  of  leaves  and  brush  and  the  sun  that  burned  my 
back  may  have  been  intoxicating,  but  however  it  was,  I 
finally  several  times  enjoyed  the  great  luxury  of  being  in 
complete  undress,  and  of  feeling  pricked,  caressed,  bitten 
and  stung  all  over,  reverting  to  savagery  as  I  had  often 
done  as  a  boy  by  putting  off  civilization  with  all  clothes  and 
their  philosophy.  It  was  a  curious  experience  of  lightness 
and  closeness  to  nature.  Without  the  shoes  one  is  let 
down  half  an  inch  in  stature;  the  center  of  the  gravity  of 
the  body  is  lowered;  there  is  a  sense  of  lightness;  and  I 
often  had  spells,  sometimes  I  think  an  hour  or  more  long 
and  quite  spontaneously,  of  singing,  yelling,  and  many 
kinds  of  vocal  gymnastics  that  sustained  and  perhaps  in 
tensified  the  peculiar  kind  of  nature  communion,  philoso 
phy  and  reminiscence  to  which  I  gave  way  on  this  spot, 
where  I  reveled  in  the  rankest  and  most  absolute  freedom 
with  a  kingly  sense  of  ruling  as  well  as  owning.  Here  I 
may  mention  incidentally  that  I  am  a  faddist  on  hill-climb 
ing,  because  it  exercises  the  heart  and  lungs  so  much  neg 
lected  in  sedentary  habits,  and  exercising  just  those  move 
ments  most  natural  and  healthy,  gives  a  sense  of  overcom 
ing  and  surmounting  with  a  peculiar  exhilaration  on  every 
hill- top  attained,  with  a  sentiment  of  victory  in  the  do 
ing,  of  breadth  and  exultation  in  the  end,  besides  enabling 
one  to  straighten  out  the  axes  of  eye  muscles  and  accommo 
date  for  a  distance. 

On  and  near  this  farm  are  many  hillsides  and  many 
curious  terminal  moraines,  almost  terraced  by  cow  paths. 
In  one  place  I  crossed  sixteen  in  present  use  in  about 
eighty  paces,  and  there  were  many  more  in  all  the  stages 
of  disuse.  In  moving  to  or  from  feeding  grounds,  cows  go 
in  files  and  are  marvelous  engineers  to  avoid  going  up  or 
down  steep  places.  In  and  out  went  the  scarped  serration, 
of  the  declivity,  and  right  and  left  wound  the  cow-paths  for 
perhaps  one-third  of  a  mile,  occasionally  deviating  for 


326       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

young  growing  trees,  nearly  trebling  the  distance  in  order 
to  maintain  almost  a  water  level,  passing  spots  so  precipi 
tous  that  a  false  step  might  have  been  fatal,  and  altogether 
constituting  a  curious  manifestation  of  instinct. 

This  farm  has  been  so  often  revisited  that  renewals  of 
undoubted  boyhood  are  fewer  and  harder  than  elsewhere. 
A  curious  crack  in  the  upper  right  corner  of  a  window  pane 
was  always  one  of  the  most  striking  things  in  the  house, 
perhaps  never  directly  in  the  focus  of  attention  as  a  boy, 
but  I  found  I  could  draw  a  complete  outline  of  its  rather 
complex  figure,  which  I  used  to  find  myself  tracing  hun 
dreds  of  times.  Every  room  visited  now,  some  after  a  lapse 
of  but  one  and  others  nine  years  or  more,  had  a  memory 
tone  more  or  less  distinct  and  all  its  own.  The  most  archaic 
memory  stratum  was  the  attic,  an  old  shop,  a  bin,  and  a 
quarry  hole  where  rubbish  had  been  dumped  for  many 
years.  These  I  carefully  explored,  especially  the  latter, 
which  I  dug  up  layer  after  layer,  coming  upon  older  and 
older  reminiscences  with  increasing  interest  and  zest.  Un 
der  ashes  I  found  old  carpets,  broken  crockery,  things  clean 
and  unclean.  I  came  upon  now  a  bit  of  china,  a  piece  of  a 
stove,  tool,  bed  quilt  or  carpet  pattern,  which  shone  out 
with  diverse  kinds  of  memory  phosphorescence,  each  richly 
set  in  emotional  tones  and  knit  up  with  more  or  less  com 
plex  associations  or  ramifications.  Here  I  found  a  rather 
suggestive  analogue  of  my  memory  strata,  for  things  had 
been  dumped  here  once  a  year  at  every  house-cleaning  from 
the  first,  and  the  organization  of  its  material  was  about  as 
slight,  and  the  stages  of  decay  were  about  as  marked  and 
progressive  as  were  those  in  my  mind.  It  was  not  unlike 
exploring  the  slowly  accumulated  debris  in  the  west 
European  caves  of  the  Neanderthal  and  Cro-Magnon 
Troglodytes.  In  a  chest  in  the  old  shop  were  frag 
ments  of  a  foot  and  hand  warming  soapstone  from 
which  irradiated  an  idyl  of  decayed  memories  of  my 


NOTE  ON  EABLY  MEMORIES  327 

mother,  the  stove,  sleigh  rides,  etc.;  a  scrap  of  blue  cot 
ton  reins  from  an  old  harness  shone  up  brightly  from  a 
great  depth  and  were  very  well  recalled  after  a  very  long 
interval;  some  curiously  notched  harrow  teeth;  a  carpen 
ter's  gauge;  a  rude  but  wornout  whetstone  of  rare  virtue; 
the  lock  of  my  old  gun;  a  paper  of  sheep  redding;  two 
powder  horns  which  I  made  and  ornamented;  a  cake  of 
oil  meal  once  in  high  favor  for  calves ;  a  much  admired  pair 
of  martingales;  the  strangely  formed  iron  step  of  a  cart; 
the  brass  nibs  of  my  little  scythe ;  a  red  cherry  rolling  pin ; 
a  corn  scraper;  many  broken  antique  cast  iron  wrenches; 
the  hatchel  and  wire  foot-spool  used  in  domestic  broom 
making;  the  six-inch  needle;  leather  hand-thimbles  and 
black  thread  and  broom  press,  with  the  paper  of  gold  leaf 
for  the  handles ;  a  set  of  well  marked  wedges  for  splitting 
wood ;  the  iron  head  beetle,  identified  by  a  peculiar  gnarl ; 
the  battered  seat  of  the  old  buggy,  with  its  white  broadcloth 
cushion  belted  in  by  a  patent  leather  strap ;  two  door  fas 
tenings;  a  part  of  a  sled  I  made;  several  traps  for  rats  and 
woodchucks ;  a  jug  of  woodchuck  oil,  and  a  whip  lash  of  its 
skin  I  braided ;  a  trowel,  bullet  molds,  ornamented  harness, 
my  old  buzz-saw;  most  of  these  surely  cannot  have  been 
warmed  up  in  my  brain  for  several  decades.  Other  things 
which  Had  the  same  air  of  resuscitation,  but  which  had  been 
so  open  that  my  mind  has  no  doubt  flitted  over  them  in  my 
annual  revisitations,  but  which  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to 
revive  more  definitely,  were  quite  a  list  of  stones,  rocks, 
fences,  wood  paths,  wild  grapes,  cattle;  my  marks  in  the 
barn  and  shed;  the  crowded  contents  of  old  shelves  and 
cupboards,  which  I  carefully  reexplored ;  the  curious  paint 
ing  of  green  and  white  spatter  work  on  the  floor  of  a  room 
carpeted  ever  since  we  first  moved  into  the  house ;  and  here 
again  suggesting  a  whole  psychological  treatise  were  door 
knobs,  latches,  hooks,  leather  hinges,  wall  paper,  and  grain 
ing,  often  in  the  foreground  of  memory.  The  curious  little 


328       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

arch  over  the  window  of  a  very  unfrequented  room;  the 
strangely  figured  paper  on  the  rarely  used  fire-board;  a 
knot-hole  in  the  front  of  a  chamber  door;  an  unfloored 
place  in  the  attic  where  there  was  perennial  danger  of 
stepping  through  the  lath;  a  long  unbroken  corner  of  a 
stove  door;  some  blue  bread  we  ate,  an  aborted  product  of 
our  own  wheat  field ;  the  figures  on  the  old  blue  crockery ; 
my  place  at  table ;  several  dress  and  bedquilt  patterns ;  the 
little  red  and  lettered  cup ;  my  penny  banks ;  a  curious  old 
firkin ; — of  a  good  many  of  these  I  could  write  a  brief  trea 
tise  were  I  to  characterize  all  the  incidents  and  especially 
the  feelings  which  they  brought  to  mind.  Here,  too,  in 
comparing  my  notebook  with  a  list  of  things  my  younger 
sister  best  remembers,  I  am  yet  more  forcibly  struck 
with  the  great  superiority  of  a  girl's  memory  of  house, 
garden  and  yard,  and  a  boy's  of  the  farm. 

In  reviewing  this  memory  furniture,  many  questions 
arise.  As  a  boy  I  used  to  rake,  pitch,  chop,  dig,  and  am 
fond  of  more  or  less  of  these  same  activities  now.  Do  I  get 
more  rest  and  refreshment  from  these  restorations  of  boy 
hood  activities  than  I  should  by  rowing  or  indulging  in 
new  games  that  involved  different  activities  and  laid  the 
chief  strain  on  different  muscles?  Is  it  a  correct  theory 
of  rest  and  vacation  thus  to  restore  old  habits  or  does  it 
tend  to  reversion  in  a  way  that  makes  progressive  growth 
harder?  Again  the  temptation  here  is  always  great  to  ut 
ter  abandon  and  absurdity,  and  to  seek  restored  equilibrium 
from  an  overworked  sedentary  life  with  much  brain  strain 
in  it  by  what  might  almost  perhaps  be  called  the  silly  or 
giggle  cure.  Does  one  rest  any  supernormally  developed 
activities  by  exercising  the  subnormal  weak  ones  ?  Is  there 
here  the  material  for  a  real  new  cure  in  a  psychic  restora 
tion  of  the  old  joy  of  life  characteristic  of  childhood? 

Another  chapter  might  be  written  on  hill  experiences. 
One  distant  summit  I  had  never  climbed  since  one  day  in 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  329 

the  early  teens,  when  I  had  spent  a  good  part  of  a  whole 
Sunday  there  alone  trying  to  sum  myself  up;  gauge  my 
good  and  bad  points  till  I  found  I  had  been  keyed  up  to  a 
kind  of  Jeffrey  rage,  and  walked  back  and  forth  vowing 
aloud  that  I  would  overcome  many  real  and  fancied  obsta 
cles  and  do  and  be  something  in  the  world.  It  was  resolve, 
vow,  prayer,  idealization,  life  plan,  all  in  a  jumble,  but  it 
was  an  experience  that  has  always  stood  out  so  prominently 
in  my  memory  that  I  found  this  revisitation  solemn  and 
almost  sacramental.  Something  certainly  took  place  in  my 
soul  then,  although  probably  it  was  of  less  consequence 
than  I  thought  for  a  long  time  afterward.  My  resolve 
to  go  to  college,  however,  was  clenched  then  and  there,  and 
that  hill  will  always  remain  my  Pisgah  and  Moriah  in  one. 

Again  a  hill  is  a  good  dynamometer.  Many  years  ago  I 
began  every  summer  to  climb  a  distant  hill  and  get  back  to 
the  hotel,  from  which  I  started  as  speedily  as  possible 
nearly  every  day  at  five  o'clock,  and  noted  the  time  and 
have  kept  my  record  these  many  years.  From  my  teens  to 
the  present  time,  I  can  walk  rapidly  on  the  first  heat  just 
about  so  far  before  my  breath  and  legs  become  uncomfort 
able,  and  I  want  to  pause.  This  is  approximately  a  con 
stant  and  has  not  varied  perceptibly  in  all  these  decades. 
For  a  long  stretch  of  hill  climbing,  however,  the  case  is 
very  different.  Training  decreases  my  time  much.  Be 
ginning  last  year  with  one  hour  and  a  quarter,  at  the  end 
of  a  month  I  could  do  the  same  work  with  about  the  same 
forcing  in  forty-nine  minutes.  I  hope  to  keep  this  record 
yet  many  years,  and  although  it  will  be  sad  when  the  inevit 
able  senescent  diminution  occurs,  the  curve  may  have  a 
little  interest. 

A  wide  gamut  of  pleasure  and  pain  is  experienced  in  a 
remarkable  way.  When  I  walk  to  the  old  place  from  the 
hotel  a  mile  away  on  a  bright  morning,  the  joy  of  seeing 
everything  is  very  intense,  indeed  to  the  point  of  exhilara- 


330       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

tion  and  almost  intoxication.  As  I  wander  about  all  day, 
take  my  dinner  alone  on  the  hill  and  continue  the  peregrina 
tions  of  the  afternoon,  the  pleasure  very  steadily  becomes 
less  exquisite,  pales  and  declines.  Sunset  is  sad  and  the 
gloaming  becomes  oppressive,  while  as  twilight  darkens 
to  early  evening  out  of  doors  and  night  conies  and  I  go 
to  bed  alone  in  the  house,  memories  of  the  past  grow  al 
most  insupportable,  and  old  fears  which  sometimes  haunted 
my  boyhood,  but  have  been  unfelt  since,  of  ghosts,  robbers, 
and  even  of  sudden  death  or  fire,  delay  or  even  banish 
sleep  for  a  time.  My  euphoria  cannot  hold  out  against 
night  and  solitude  here.  Nowhere  else  have  I  experienced 
these  ancient  fears  in  any  such  force,  although  I  have  been 
no  less  alone. 

Several  times,  first  on  a  dark  stormy  windy  night  and 
last  on  a  bright  moonlit  one,  I  undertook  to  wander  through 
the  village  graveyard,  which  is  some  distance  from  any 
house,  but  met  with  utterly  undreamed-of  difficulties.  As 
I  approached  it,  there  was  a  depressing  sense  of  loneliness 
which  darkened  down  to  a  strange  kind  of  fear.  I  found 
myself  tense,  anxious,  expectant  of  something  painful  be 
fore  these  apprehensions  took  any  form  or  had  any  object. 
Then  I  thought  of  ghosts  and  kindred  wild  scenery,  that 
made  me  as  a  boy  run  by  this  place  after  dark.  As  I 
forced  myself  to  climb  over  the  black  fence  under  the  pines 
and  to  touch  a  few  of  the  nearest  grave  stones,  the  nervous 
awfulness  of  it  all  increased.  I  paused  to  gather  courage 
and  lit  a  cigar  on  the  nearest  tombstone,  forced  myself 
along  a  rod  farther,  paused  and  felt  great  tension.  Had 
there  been  need,  I  certainly  could  have  gone  through  or 
spent  the  night  there  alone,  but  each  time  I  retired  simply 
because  it  would  have  taken  such  a  great  nervous  effort 
to  have  forced  myself  on.  I  dread  great  heights,  but  cam 
climb  almost  anywhere,  just  as  here  the  tension  of  the  neu 
roses  is  painful  and  wasteful.  This  experience  suggested 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  331 

to  me  many  problems.  The  old  fears  were  not  of  very 
vivid  imagery  of  sheeted  figures,  etc.,  but  the  fear  without 
an  object  was  intense.  Whether  this  was  ancestral  or 
caused  by  the  many  gruesome  tales  of  childhood  or  both, 
it  is  impossible  to  tell. 

In  an  old  yellow  chest  I  found  carefully  preserved  all 
my  compositions  from  the  first  at  the  age  of  five  on  "The 
Rat"  up  through  various  contributions  to  the  unprinted 
school  paper  and  a  kind  of  valedictory  at  the  age  of  four 
teen,  together  with  several  juvenile  diaries  which  I  was 
encouraged  to  begin  at  the  age  of  seven.  I  also  succeeded 
in  finding  again  about  all  the  old  school  books  from  the 
little  red  primer  up  to  the  " village  reader/7  Webster's 
speller,  Colburn's  and  Adams's  arithmetics,  Mitchell's 
geography  and  atlas,  the  first  grammar,  etc.,  all  of  which 
I  have  carefully  looked  through,  together  with  quite  ex 
tensive  files  of  letters  of  my  parents  written  to  me  from 
fourteen  on  when  I  began  to  be  away  from  home.  Of  this 
mass  of  material  the  most  striking  fact  is  how  much  has 
been  forgotten.  The  reader  was  in  use  for  years,  and  yet 
I  marked  only  fourteen  selections  of  which  I  had  any  recol 
lection.  Several  of  them  I  recalled  memorizing,  but  beyond 
the  first  few  lines  or  verse  or  two  there  is  only  a  general 
feeling  of  familiarity.  The  poetic  extracts  linger  longer 
than  the  prose;  of  the  fourteen  I  doubt  if  more  than  five 
have  been  distinctly  in  my  mind  since  boyhood  days.  The 
great  majority  were  utterly  unfit  for  childhood,  and  I  can 
recall  nothing  whatever,  but  it  is  always  those  that  were 
best  liked  at  the  time  that  are  best  remembered.  The 
speller  is  most  familiar.  Nineteen  or  twenty  of  the  lists  of 
words  as  they  stood  in  columns  (lady,  baker,  shady) ,  I  could 
still  repeat  if  started.  Many  of  the  illustrative  sentences, 
too,  like  "fire  will  burn  wood  and  coal,"  came  back  with 
great  distinctness.  Clearest  of  all,  however,  were  the  fables 
in  the  back  with  the  pictures,  and  next  the  abbreviations; 


332       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

but  the  three  pages  of  laws  concerning  sounds  of  letters  in 
the  front  and  rules  for  punctuation  in  the  back,  memorized 
with  such  tediousness  and  unintelligibility,  only  had  a  faint 
echo  of  familiarity.  Now  from  a  perfect  understanding  of 
what  they  mean  I  could  memorize  them  with  approximate 
verbal  accuracy  in  a  very  short  time.  It  is  curious  that 
the  order  of  disconnected  words  the  same  in  sound  and 
varying  only  slightly  in  spelling  should  be  so  much  better 
remembered  than  coherent  sentences,  which  were  inter 
spersed.  This,  I  think,  shows  the  very  phonic  nature  of 
juvenile  memory.  Of  the  geography  the  pictures  were  by 
far  best  remembered,  especially  those  of  men  and  animals 
in  action.  All  the  scraps  about  the  productions,  the  frag 
mentary  history  and  population,  have  gone,  and  most  of  it 
would  be  now  valueless.  The  general  outlines  of  the  col 
ored  states  was  generally  remembered,  but  I  could  now 
easier  prepare  for  an  examination  in  a  new  science  than 
on  this  farrago.  I  read  through  the  shorter  catechism  and 
recalled  the  relation  and  sequence  of  the  sonorous  words, 
and  remembered  particularly  the  crabbed  places  in  the 
stiff  and  awkward  sentences  which  were  so  antistylistic,  and 
yet  this  at  the  age  of  nine  I  knew  by  heart,  teste  a  diploma 
to  that  effect  still  in  my  possession,  signed  by  the  minister, 
superintendent  and  class  teacher.  Of  Colburn's  arith 
metic,  in  which  I  was  rather  expert,  the  most  striking  recol 
lection  was  of  the  symmetrically  ordered  lines  arranged 
like  poetry.  Of  the  Adams  arithmetic  the  tables  of  weights 
and  measures  stand  out  clearest,  and  next  a  few  specially 
hard  sums,  and  the  rudiment  of  some  of  the  ponderous 
rules,  together  with  certain  scenes  of  the  schoolhouse  (blue 
slate,  blackboard,  and  teachers)  that  were  associated  with 
them.  Of  the  primer  the  bright  and  scarlet  cover  was  best 
remembered,  next  the  pig  sentences,  and  some  of  the  alpha 
bet  pictures.  In  language  work  Green's  grammar  and 
analysis  brought  back  little  that  was  vivid  or  pleasing. 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  333 

The  ponderous  mouth  work  of  the  latter  (adjective  element 
because  it  describes  a  quality  according  to  rule  17 ;  of  the 
third  class  because  it  contains  a  subject  and  predicate  ac 
cording  to  rule  23,  etc.),  looms  up  through  the  fog  of  years. 
By  far  the  most  vivid  of  all  were  the  school  declamations, 
various  sentences  of  which  could  be  recalled. 

The  case  with  my  own  effusions  was  quite  different. 
Almost  everything  here  came  back  in  a  sense.  The  favorite 
topic  of  my  earliest  productions  was  animals  and  fights. 
Occasionally,  at  a  very  tender  age,  I  lapsed  into  poetry 
which  was  very  rich  in  promise  of  the  bathos  of  later  fresh 
man  and  sub-freshman  effusions.  My  two  chief  endeavors 
were  to  be  either  funny  or  eloquent,  and  it  is  hard  to  re- 
peruse  these  efforts  without  sentiments  of  self-pity,  and 
they  are  a  most  drastic  lesson  in  humility.  The  diaries, 
sometimes  kept  up  at  the  rate  of  a  few  lines  a  day  for  a 
year  or  more  (occasionally  I  would  write  up  on  Sunday 
all  the  space  for  each  day  of  the  past  week),  are  mostly 
very  monotonous  records  of  the  weather,  going  to  school, 
but  quite  frequently  with  specific  events,  most  of  which 
recalled  nothing  whatever. 

Near  the  dawn  of  adolescence,  the  spring  after  I  was 
fourteen,  I  conceived  it  would  be  vastly  fine  to  write  my 
own  life,  and  this  was  spun  out  to  some  forty  pages  of  fools 
cap.  It  is  fullest  on  school  life  and  events.  Nearly  every 
term  of  the  preceding  eight  years  of  school  life  I  had  had 
a  different  teacher,  over  twenty  in  all,  and  each  of  these  is 
described  and  in  order.  This  convinces  me  that  a  great 
body  of  details  of  early  life  remembered  at  fourteen  lapses 
later,  for  I  could  not  now  recall  even  the  names  of  all  these 
teachers,  still  less  their  order.  Most  of  the  leading  events 
bring  up  a  sense  of  recollection,  but  nearly  all  the  minor 
ones  have  been  swept  away  in  the  stream  of  time.  At  this 
age,  too,  being  an  ardent  admirer  of  Silvanus  Cobb  and 
Mrs.  Southworth,  I  wrote  in  red  ink  a  story  of  some  eighty 


334       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

large  pages  and  in  ten  chapters.  This  was  read  with  what 
I  was  led  to  understand  was  the  most  eager  interest,  chapter 
by  chapter,  by  a  younger  girl  cousin,  but  by  no  one  else. 
I  have  made  several  attempts  to  read  it  morning  and  night, 
when  rested  and  fatigued,  but  it  absolutely  will  not  read, 
and  my  mind  balks  at  early  stages  and  I  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  get  half  through  it.  This  same  year  I  also  made  an 
inventory  of  all  my  secular  music  and  catalogued  eighty- 
seven  pieces  that  I  could  either  sing,  play,  or  both ;  but  the 
tragic  pity  of  it  all  is  the  quality.  Of  most  of  these  pieces 
I  could  now  whistle  or  strum  the  air,  in  some  the  rhythm 
seems  intact,  but  the  words  are  in  various  stages  of  de 
cadence.  Especially  do  I  recall  the  secret  day-dreams  I 
had  of  being  a  great  musician,  orator,  literary  man,  poet, 
etc.  Strongest  and  perhaps  most  vividly  remembered  in 
all  this  group  is  the  perfect  craze  for  clog  dancing  and  its 
various  steps  and  shuffles,  together  with  playing  on  the 
bones. 

This  period  of  my  life,  and  not  before,  is  marked  by  the 
beginning  of  a  coherent  and  sequent  memory.  From  this 
time  on  I  can  give  some  account  of  at  least  every  year  of 
my  life  in  order,  and  although  I  can  do  this  to  some  extent 
before,  most  of  it  is  both  transposed  and  too  full  of  gaps. 
My  present  life  really  began  here,  so  that  whatever  has 
happened  since  seems  far  more  a  part  of  myself,  and  what 
preceded,  despite  the  filmy  links  of  personal  reminiscence, 
is  more  objective  and  as  if  it  were  of  another  person.  That 
a  child  of  twelve  months  has  certain  memories  of  experience 
of  the  preceding  week  or  month,  there  is  every  reason  to 
believe.  Mr.  Colegrove x  thinks  males  best  remember  pro 
tracted  or  repeated  occurrences,  and  females  single  or 
novel  ones,  and  holds  that  there  are  different  kinds  of 
memories  that  culminate  at  different  periods  of  life.  I  can- 

1  Oolegrove,  F.  W. :  Individual  Memories.  Am.  Jour,  of  Psy.,  Jan. 
1899,  Vol.  X,  p.  228. 


NOTE  ON  EARLY  MEMORIES  335 

not,  however,  think  that  I  remember  clothes,  tastes,  foods, 
playmates,  friends,  special  pains  or  pleasures,  accidents,  or 
exceptional  incidents  better  at  one  time  than  another.  Mr. 
Colegrove  's  memory  curves  all  show  that  early  adolescence, 
and  particularly  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  years,  are  on 
the  whole  richer  in  memory  material  than  any  other  period 
of  life.  Probably  the  years  from  twenty  to  thirty  come 
next,  as  important  changes  are  then  occurring.  On  the 
whole  I  think  pleasant  predominate  over  unpleasant  mem 
ories  in  my  life.  During  all  these  earlier  years,  there  was 
no  epoch-making  event  like  the  death  or  any  severe  sick 
ness  of  a  member  of  the  family. 

Finally,  there  was  every  degree  of  readiness  of  recall. 
Some  revivals  seem  purely  spontaneous  with  no  external 
suggestion.  Others  (the  old  weasel  hole,  the  mill  wheel) 
came  back  instantly  and  clearly  upon  envisagement.  A 
plot  of  deadly  nightshade  was  recalled  quite  clearly,  but 
its  personal  equation  was  much  slower.  A  flock  of  yellow 
butterflies  at  a  certain  spot  in  the  road  was  dormant  for 
some  minutes,  but  gradually  came  out  with  great  distinct 
ness.  A  large  bunch  of  unknown  white  berries  in  the 
woods  I  slowly  came  to  believe  quite  surely  I  had  known 
as  a  *boy,  but  in  other  cases  the  reminiscent  sense  super 
vened  very  slowly  and  perhaps  was  not  quite  clear  till  the 
next  day.  Other  objects  I  must  have  known  well  gave  no 
glimmer  of  reminiscence. 

I  am  able  to  recall  several  cases  in  which  I  have  attached 
to  my  own  memory  continuum  alien  matter  that  has  been 
told  me  and  which  after  having  long  believed  to  be  a  part 
of  my  own  experience,  I  was  obliged  to  confess  never  could 
have  been.  Such  experiences  give  me  some  little  charity 
for  those  of  my  theosophist  friends  who  talk  and  write  of 
the  memory  of  past  births  and  describe  their  own  previous 
life  in  the  Lost  Atlantis,  in  ancient  Greece,  when  they 
heard  Homer,  or  when  they  shouted  for  Caesar  or  Brutus 


336       RECREATIONS  OF  A  PSYCHOLOGIST 

in  the  Forum,  or  think  they  recall  with  great  vividness  the 
items  of  some  particular  event  that  happened  to  them  thou 
sands  of  years  ago  with  many  Lethes  of  birth  and  death 
intervening. 

On  the  whole,  painful  as  have  been  many  of  the  re 
vivals  in  this  pre-adolescent  past,  there  has  been  a  prepon 
derance  of  pleasant  impressions.  While  this  does  not  show 
that  pains  tend  to  fade  and  pleasures  to  brighten,  because 
we  have  no  common  inventories  of  each,  it  nevertheless 
comforts  me  with  the  sense  that  on  the  whole  my  boyhood 
was  preponderantly  a  joyouc  one,  as  it  was  meant  to  have 
been.  Finally,  the  act  of  recall  itself  has,  I  think,  in 
every  case  had  a  certain  unique  kind  of  pleasure  attached 
to  it,  so  I  will  close  this  all  too  scrappy  note  with  the  feel 
ing  that  if  I  were  able  to  write  a  complete  autobiography  of 
my  own  childhood  and  boyhood,  reflecting  all  of  even  its 
more  typical  experiences  as  they  actually  were  lived  and 
felt  at  the  time,  restricted  as  it  was  in  both  nature  and  cir 
cumstances,  so  that  it  should  be  a  complete  history  of  all 
the  stages  of  evolution  of  even  one  limited  conscious  per 
sonality,  it  would  be  a  book  second  in  scientific  and  general 
interest  as  well  as  practical  value  to  almost  no  book  ever 
written. 

CD 


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